#I’ve been throwing my hands up and wailing at it all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wanders-in-wonderland · 11 months ago

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Pay to Play

The last thing I remember is a van pulling up to the sidewalk and two men grabbing me. I vaguely recall a syringe going into my arm and the pain of an injection but that’s all that I can remember of when I wake up. I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, and gagged. There are several other girls in the room as well, all tied and gagged just like I am. The fear is palpable as we look between ourselves. Some are crying and most of us are squirming and struggling to no avail.

Suddenly, the door to the room we’re in swings open and several men walk in. No one says a word as the men go towards the girl closest to the door and pick her up, chair included. They leave with her, just as suddenly as they arrived, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

I feel tears well up in my eyes, the fear and confusion becoming too much for me to process. One of the girls screams behind her gag and another one joins her. A few more join in but no one beyond the door seems to notice and eventually, we all quiet again, each of us trying to cope in our own ways.

An unknown amount of time passes and suddenly the doors slam open again. The men return but there is no sign of the first girl. They head towards the second girl and grab her the same way, ignoring her wails from behind the gag and her desperate struggling against her bonds. They leave with her, just like before.

It becomes a pattern. The men come and take the next girl in line every so often and none of us know what to expect or how to stop it. Soon, I’m up next. It’s been so long since I woke up that I’ve stopped crying already. My arms are sore from being tied up and my legs are numb from sitting.

The doors slam open again and I’m carried away. I’m brought to a room surrounded by lights, the sudden brightness making me squint and blink. When my vision focuses again, I realize the men are gone and I’m alone. I’m surrounded by cameras, and there’s a large screen in front of me playing a live feed of the room, and I see myself. My hair is tangled, my eyes are red from crying, and I look terrified. What’s next to the footage is what makes my blood run cold. It’s a chat box, and I can see the comments coming in. Comments about how I look, about how excited viewers are for the “show,” and how much they think I’m worth. I realize in that moment that I’m being livestreamed and about to be sold off to the highest bidder.

A door opens and a man walks in. He’s wearing a mask that covers most of his face and he has on a microphone that I can only assume let’s him talk to the stream’s viewers.

“Welcome! Our next lovely girl is here with us now. You all know the rules, if you win the auction, you must transfer funds immediately and she will be prepared for shipment or pick-up, depending on your preference. Let’s begin.”

He walks toward me, and I whimper behind the gag, terrified of what’s to come. He pulls out a pair of scissors, and swiftly cuts away at my clothes, pulling them off my naked body and I’m crying now. I can see myself on the screen, my sobs making my body shake as I try my best to curl into myself.

The comments start to flood into the chat box now, people discussing my body, my tits, my pussy. I see bids start to come in too, and part of me is shocked to see the amount of money these people are throwing out.

The man comes back into my view and he’s holding a vibrator in his hand. I wail behind the gag, shaking my head and struggling uselessly in my bonds. He isn’t deterred and I watch as he clicks it on. I’m straining to close my legs but the ropes are too tight and chair too unyielding. He brings the vibrator between my legs and I wail when I feel it touch my clit. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, he presses the vibrating head directly onto my clit and holds it there, letting the vibrations batter me.

I scream behind the gag as I feel the sensation overwhelm me. At first, the fear dampened any pleasure but as the seconds dragged on and the vibrator stayed pressed up against my most delicate area, I could feel my body reacting. Waves of stimulation crash over me and I can feel the first inklings of an orgasm starting to build. The man keeps the horrible vibrator on my pulsing clit and my tears are now in response to the unbearable pleasure that I never wanted, and certainly not like this.

The vibrator pushes my body closer and closer to a wrecking orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than feel it happen. I arch my back and squirm as much as I can when the incomprehensible pleasure crescendos and I shatter. I can feel my pussy clenching around nothing and gushing out my release, my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat, and my mind fading to a haze of pleasure and pain as the vibrator continues to ravage me.

“Orgasm in one minute and 37 seconds, and she’s a squirter,” the man announces matter-of-factly. “Let’s see how hard we can push her.”

I look up from tear-blurred eyes, seeing the comments flood in on the chat box on screen. I’ve always been sensitive post-orgasm and the fact that the man hasn’t pulled away the vibrator is pushing me into a painful overstimulation that’s making my stomach clench in fear. He reaches down with his free hand and maneuvering around the vibrator to pull back the soft skin that normally surrounds my clit, protecting it. My eyes widen and I let out a guttural scream behind the gag as the overwhelming, horrible vibrator now decimates my clit with nothing to soften the nerve-fraying stimulation.

I feel my eyes roll up into my head and my body is thrown into a second orgasm with no preparation. Just pure, unstoppable pleasure that burns every single nerve in my body. I can’t even breathe or scream or cry as my entire being is locked in a soul-shattering explosion that seems to go on forever.

I have no idea how much time passes or how many orgasms that terrible pleasure is able to tear from my body before the vibrator finally moves away. I’m shaking, crying, gasping for air and my clit is burning and twitching from the continued stimulation.

When I finally gather myself enough to open my eyes and see the on-screen chat box, I feel my heart stutter when I read some of the things people are saying.

“Fuck, she’s hot like that, I wonder if she’d survive a day strapped to a fucking machine.”

“I want to string her up and see how good of a whipping she could handle before she begs.”

“Her little clitty looks perfect for a piercing, and I could run electricity through it and really make her scream and cum.”

That last one makes me whimper and I pull my attention away from the screen, hoping that this nightmare is almost over.

“Now for a change of pace,” the man says from across the room. My eyes dart over to him and see that the men who’d brought me here are back again, rolling in a different chair, this one built like a gynecologist’s exam table with stirrups. I shake slightly in fear as they approach me and untie me before manhandling me into the exam chair. I’m too weak to even resist as they strap my body down, my feet going into the stirrups and my legs, arms, and body immobilized with straps.

The men leave and I look up at the livestream of myself, seeing how fear has made my eyes wide with gruesome anticipation. I can see clearly in the video, my clit looking so red and angry while my pussy still drips from the torment of pleasure they’d subjected me to moments before. I watch as the masked man approaches me, wheeling over a tray containing more horrible toys and devices.

He pulls a metal speculum off the tray and comes to stand before me. I’m shaking with terror, desperately trying to beg from behind the gag. He’s uncaring as he slides the device against my pussy, pushing the cold, hard metal inside of me. My back arches as my pussy fills and I whine, wishing that I didn’t find this violation pleasurable.

The man starts to crank the handle of the device, the motion forcing the speculum to open me up. I can’t help but moan, feeling an unbearable fullness start to build as the device pushes my pussy wide open. Eventually, he stops and takes a step back.

I watch through the livestream as he grabs a long, thin wand from the tray and comes back. I can feel my pussy pulsing around the speculum holding me open, and I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent whatever deranged thing he plans on doing next.

“Let’s see how she reacts to some internal stimulation.”

Without any other warning, the man slides the thin wand into me and presses a button that makes it start emitting a low pulsing vibration. He brushes against the walls of my pussy and I shake at the onslaught of pleasure. The speculum gives him easy, perfect access and the thin wand means he has every bit of precision at his disposal as he targets my most vulnerable places.

I choke on a gasp when he finds my g-spot and presses into it with heart-stopping accuracy. I feel my toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head as painful, unbearable pleasure overwhelms me. He turns up the wand to an unimaginable intensity and drives it into the tenderness of my pussy. I cum immediately. My pussy gushes and my juices flood out of me as the pleasure ravages my body with no mercy.

Just like with my clit, the man doesn’t let up. I’m locked in this impossible pleasure and overstimulation as my vision goes white and my body feels ripped to shreds by every orgasm that pours out of me.

When he finally stops, I don’t even feel human anymore. My mind is empty, there is absolutely nothing left other than the pure pleasure that laid waste to my entire being. I’m vaguely aware of the man announcing final call for bids but I’m too incoherent to really register what is going on around me. Suddenly, I feel a prick on my arm and slowly turn my head to watch a syringe pull out of my arm. My head spins and I feel sleep encroaching on my mind.

Just before my darkness overwhelms my vision and I sink into unconsciousness, I catch a glance of the screen and see how much money was spent on me. There’s a muted sense of astonishment. It’s more money than I could even fathom, more than I could make in a lifetime. And someone just spent it on me, in exchange for my complete ownership.

#nsft concept #overstim kink #dark fantasy #cl1t torture #mind break #rap3 fantasy #kidnap fantasy #overstim nsft #rough kink #medfet #cl!t torture

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msfantasy-anime · 5 days ago

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No way! Luffy has a Wife?!

Monkey D. Luffy x Wife!Reader

Summary: an amalgamation of many requests on others finding out Luffy is married.

A/n: Thanks @matronofthevoid for the prompt of Boa Hancock and to the other anonymous DM’s requesting others

Part VII

After a few weeks of Monkey Y/n’s Wanted posters circulating, the world government has issued a retraction after being unable to locate the marriage certificate of Luffy and Y/n.

The marines have since issued new Wanted posters, removing the family name ‘Monkey’ followed by the following description.

‘Y/n, Wanted Dead or Alive for 200 million berries after assaulting a marine officer for insulting childhood friend Monkey D. Luffy. The bounty has been increased as Y/n is confirmed to be an official member of the strawhat pirates after eye-witness testify Y/n claiming allegiance to the strawhat captain in wholecake Island. The World Government would also like to retract any claims or statements of the marriage between the pair due to lack of evidence to support claim.’

Whilst it true the new posters and description have been issued- not everyone has received the new news.

Shanks - Receiving the original poster

“Hey captain! Check this out!” Yassop howls in laughter with Lucky Roux, throwing a newly issued bounty down into their captains lap.

Wanted Dead or Alive. Monkey. Y/n. 100m berries.

Shanks eyes widen slightly at the name.

“Luffy’s a grown man now, wife and all…” Shanks mutters, his eyes shining with pride before quickly faltering to horror. “That little twerp got married and didn’t even invite me?! Can you believe that?!”

Silvers Rayleigh - Receiving the original poster

Shakuyaku smirks down at the news paper below her, taking a good long drag from the cigarette sitting loosely between her fingers.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Rayleigh steals a glance at the papers. “Well would you look at that… the boys not completely hopeless after all.”

Boa Hancock - Receives the new posters

As all of the Kuja warriors suspected. Their beautiful loving Empress has been bedridden for weeks.

The wanted poster…

The description of Luffy’s marital status…

It was all far too much for the tender hearted empress.

But as soon as Gloriosa received the newest issue, she figuratively bolted to the empresses bed chamber. “I’ve come bearing great news!” Gloriosa announces, pulling the blanket off of the rotting figure that is Boa Hancock.

He matted hair remains tangled, her swollen eyes pinching together tighter at the exposure of light. “Leave at once you old hag! Leave me to my suffering!” Hancock wails, pulling weakly at the bedcovers.

“He isn’t married!” Gloriosa announces as Hancock sits up rapidly. “Luffy! He isn’t married- it was just a false report! They’re only childhood friends!” The angelic expression that follow was so blindingly beautiful, Gloriosa’s memory lapsed at the beauty that is her Empress.

“Luffy my love! I knew it! You shall be mine! No woman is qualified for his affections!” Hancock swoons.

Monkey D. Garp - Receives the new poster

“See Koby?! I knew it wasn’t true!” Helmeppo scrutinises the posters hung up on the wall.

‘Y/n Wanted Dead or Alive’

Koby shrugs indifferently. Whilst it might be true Luffy and Y/n aren’t married, is it really so crazy to believe Luffy has romantic interests? Well according to Helmeppo, such a statement is ridiculous.

“What are you two bickering about now?” Garp grumbles, shoving his hand into the bucket of popcorn and into his mouth by the fist fulls.

“Sir- you would know more than that Luffy couldn’t possibly be married.” Helmeppo guestures to Y/n’s new poster.

There was a moment of silence before Garp dropped his bucket of popcorn to the floor, snatching the poster as his eyes widen in horror. “Huh?! So that little brat went and became a pirate after all?! Does anyone listen to me?! First Ace, then my idiot grandson and now my angel?!” Storming to his desk, Garp continues to mutter to himself under his breath, riffling through the papers until he is able to extract a report pertaining to your bounty from the pile.

You were Garp’s one saving grace.

The one and only rambunctious child that didn’t go over to the dark side, but based off the report- it’s still his idiot grandsons fault.

If he didn’t become a pirate then you wouldn’t have gained a wanted poster defending his honour like the noble angel you are.

“Sir - you would know more than anyone. Is Luffy and Y/n married or not?” Koby asks, only for Garps eyes to remain dark and downcast in angst.

“Unofficially.” He mutters only for Helmeppo to cringe at the confirmation.

“So it’s true then?! Strawhat really does have a wife?!” Helmeppo shouts in horror, needing desperately for Garp to tell him the honest truth.

“Huh?” Garp picks his nose mindlessly as he thinks back. “That idiot has been claiming they’ve been married for years… guess he just finally wore her down.”

Bartolomeo - Receives the new poster

“And Y/n defended Sir Luffy by knocking that filthy marine out in one hard punch!” Bartolomeo praises, dabbing a moist tissue to his eyes. “It’s just so beautiful! Sir Luffy deserves nothing less than a devoted wife to defend his honour.” Bartolomeo throws himself onto the floor as he continues to sob hysterically. “And - to think- they’re childhood friends! Truely a romantic story for the ages!”

The crew begin to cry in unison. “How can people deny their marriage?!” Some sobbing crewman questions, blowing his nose into his own shirt.

“They don’t need no stink’in piece of paper! We will help sir Luffy by spreading their grand love story far and wide for all to hear!”

Y/n - Receives the new poster

“Hey have you guys seen Y/n?” Luffy questions, scratching his head absentmindedly.

Zoro points lazily towards the head of the Thousand Sunny where you appear to be sitting glumly. You begin to make the face you always do when you are sad.

“I’m sorry Luffy- I didn’t mean to upset her.” Chopper mutters sadly. But Zoro only drops his heavy hand on Choppers head. “Y/n’s bounty went up, I went to show her, but then she got really upset.“ Chopper holds up the newly issued Wanted poster of Y/n.

“Hey it’s not your fault, all you did was show her the new poster.” Zoro reassures but Choppers shoulders sink further.

Luffy snatches Nami’s pen from her hand and begins to scribble on the Wanted poster.

“Luffy! What the hell-“ Luffy tosses the pen back on the table and stalks back off towards his gloomy wife.

“Oi! Have you seen your new wanted poster? Looks like your bounty went up since you’re officially in my crew now.” Luffy announces ecstatically, shoving the wrinkly paper into your hands.

You begin to slouch into yourself. You knew it was silly but it was heart wrenching to finally have a family name only of it to be taken at a moments notice. ‘Monkey’ was not a last name you even earnt. But even so, it was nice to feeling like you belonged somewhere.

“Yeah, what about it?“ Your voice shrivels up on the spot.

Looking down at the wanted poster you see your name haphazardly scribbled ‘Monkey Y/n’

Tears threatened to well-up. Without you even admitting out loud - Luffy somehow knew exactly what upset you and how to fix it. “You’re so dumb sometimes ya’know?” Luffy states rhetorically, which only makes you begin to boom with laughter. “How many more times do I have to remind you? You’re my wife. You don’t need some piece of paper to give you a last name. Because I already gave you my last name.” You begin to grin at your sweet loveable doofus. “But if you need a piece of paper, then take that. I wrote it myself and everything- Kay?” He asks only for you to spring on top of Luffy, pulling him into a lethal tight hug.

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ajortga · 5 months ago

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cute and absolute

pairing: jenna ortega x actress!fem reader

word count: 1.8k+

summary: it doesn't go unnoticed that you are one of the only people that jenna lets her walls down with.

based off request!

Where Jenna only accepts r's touch ??? Tyy

-🥝

Jenna is squirming in the car, screaming at her friend to drive faster so she can eat.

“I’ve been on set since 6 fucking AM! It’s been 10 hours and I’m hungry! I skipped breakfast for this damn shit! What the hell do you mean you can’t get a burrito right now? All I want is a damn burrito and you’re telling me that we have to pick up Y/N, our friend, and first buy the book you wanted because it’s closer? CLOSER?” She screams, gripping her knuckles that were already white enough.

Jacob, one of Jenna’s friends laughs hard, a little threatened but not enough to be stopped. “It’ll only take 15 minutes at most! It’s more convenient, the bookstore is along the way and closer to our location, then we can just buy any burrito you want aft-”

“CLOSER? YOU KNOW WHAT’S CLOSER?” Jenna throws her arms up in dramatic effect, huffing, “Me going insane! My sanity is at 10% right now, and if I don’t get my burrito this instant, I’m going to crash this car and fucking run to the nearest place that has a burrito. DON’T touch me!” She yells, smacking her friend's arm away because she cannot think properly at this moment.

“I’m STARVING, and I’m a woman who needs food to survive in this film ECONOMY! Can’t you drive any faster?-"

Jenna suddenly hears your voice outside from the slightly opened car window. She peeks her eyes out, her hands holding the glass. She suddenly sees you, looking sweet, happy, and perfectly sane as you come out of your driveway. “Hi, Jenna!” You exclaim, completely unaware that she was just ballistic for a burrito 5 seconds ago.

Her frustrated demeanor melts off suddenly, a goofy grin on her face as she sees just how happy you are. She brings her hand up, waving. “Hi!”

She just forgot how hungry she was and the person she just was less than a minute ago. Why was she so upset that she had to wait longer so Jacob could pick you up? She stopped feeling the need to bang her head on the nearest wall.

“Jacob was telling me that you had a long time on set, something about how I had to save him because you were going crazy, so I got you some snacks.” You pull out a bag filled with goodies from your pantry.

The man that was driving stuttered as Jenna slowly turned to him, “I did not say it like that.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing your phone and swiping and squinting. “It says here, “Please save me from this woman, she’s acting like a toddler that just shit her pants. SOS, crying crying emoji..” Um, oh and here. “This girl is so dramatic, complaining about not getting her burrito, she's wailing in the back seat. Please save her.” Don’t lie to me.” You state with a grin as Jenna munches on chips.

He rolls his eyes, grumbling.

Jenna interrupts, “Okay, Jacob, you traitor.”

“You cannot be talking, slapping my arm away when I try to calm you down but Y/N being some sort of angel and making you all cuddly.”

The fuming brunette slowly turns back to normal as you slither your arm around hers, laying your head on her shoulder. “Glad to know you love me. How was filming without me?”

Jenna sniffs, letting you ruffle her hair, “One of the directors was trying to show us how the scene should play out, the popcorn in the microwave caught on fire.”

You nod, awkwardly as you look around. “Was it your popcorn?” You guess.

She huffs and sinks into you, “Yes, and now I'm starving."

Aliyah is losing her mind. First, her father was fixing the doorbell, and now it seems to be ringing on its own. Now, her older sister won’t cooperate as she tries to steady Jenna’s legs that are in the air. The brunette shrieks, causing Aliyah to pull away and make her tumble.

Aliyah groans, “This is the thirteenth time already! Let me make this clear, you asked me to help you do this random one handed handstand, but you won’t let me even touch you so I can get you into the right pose? You’re so weird.”

Jenna shrugs, her head on the floor as she hangs upside down from the couch. “I am letting you touch me!”

“No you aren’t! You start shrieking and then falling face flat when I do! How the hell are we going to make this work if you won’t cooperate?”

The two siblings hear some shuffling as you crawl through the dog door, fitting yourself in. They blink, staring at you as you wiggle yourself through and throw a hand in the air, showing that you brought food. “Burritos!”

“Y/N! What are you doing? Go through the back door you doofus! You could’ve just knocked!”

You finally manage to squirm your way in as you stand up, brushing some leaves off of you and throwing them into the trash. You flip your hair, crawling through doggy doors were one of your talents. You signal her Jenna to hear you out as you put up a finger, “First of all, I was ringing the doorbell like, five thousand times, then I knocked, and no one was answering! I’m not letting the food get cold.” You pause, looking at Jenna who is currently staring at you upside down and hanging from the couch. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying to do a one handed handstand.”

“Oh, wait. Oh! I know how to do that!” Happily, you hand her sister the bag with burritos and tacos, before collapsing to the floor.

There was awkward silence as Jenna and Aliyah stared at each other, “Um..”

Jenna always knew you as the silly girl across the block. Even after 5 years of friendship, she thinks you’ve just gotten sillier.

“That wasn’t it, I haven’t done it in a year. Hold on.” You position yourself, slowly doing a handstand. Jenna can see your shirt slowly rising up and showing your stomach as you keep yourself steady. You lift an arm off and hang it up. “Did I do it?”

Jenna giggles and flops down the couch. “Yeah. I think so.” She crawls behind you and picks up your body that was upside down.

“Hey!”

“Okay, slow and steady..” You say softly, squinting and holding Jenna’s legs, making sure she was in the right position. “Aliyah, try steadying her while she puts one arm up.”

“No way, nope.” She argues, eating her taco, “She literally kept shrieking when I tried to and starting kicking and squirming.”

“She’s not shrieking right now?”

“Well you’re just different I guess, you’re her best friend, so..”

You raise your eyebrows, a smile tugging on your lips as you tickle Jenna and make her fall on you. “You just love me, don’t you!?” You giggle, hugging her as she squeals and nuzzles against you.

It was late in the evening as you got changed into pajamas and flopped onto your bed. Nights like this always felt better, where you would switch on a show, read a book, or call friends. You decide to check some emails, looking over some asking for you to star in movies, replying to companies that want you as their ambassador, you click out of the tab.

A small ding sounds on your phone as you see that Emma had texted you.

meh meh myers: LMAO look at this article i found about u and jenna: https://hypotheticalsofcelebrities

y/n: okay my own researcher and detective, or should i say pippa fitz amobi? u get me?

y/n: lemme go check it out

meh meh myers: yus ily

y/n: ur the pip to my ravi 🥺

meh meh myers: corny

You laugh at yourself as you open the link, the article named ‘Escalating Relationships, Cute or Absolute?’

You roll your eyes and scroll down.

Fans say that they’ve picked up on the actress’s behavior, scooting away from castmates who’ve gotten too close during interviews and only staying close to one or two close ones. Not that she’s uncomfortable, taken from the way she seems unfazed most times. But, it is noticed that she seems like a bundle of happiness with individuals. A clip right here shows her with a fellow castmate, Y/N L/N, both starred in the famous series, Wednesday. It is caught on how Ortega was silently making sure that her friend was okay during an interview that had turned a little more uncomfortable for the other girl, squeezing her hand and clinging onto her. It seemed to have worked, for how the girl began to relax. What a friendship they have!

The tiny moments of comfort and physical touch occur in other interviews too, as well as cute Instagram comments on each other's posts that come off as playful flirting. Some comments are pasted here.

Jenna Ortega commenting on Y/N’s post of a photoshoot press for Wednesday last year in September:

jennaortega: That’s my girl

Another one on a post of the girl just doing an Instagram photo dump this year in March:

jennaortega: if you squint closely you can see me doing the dishes for my wife in the third photo

jennaortega: i will take your last name if i have to

jennaortega: my woman, i love you

Y/N L/N commenting on a post for Jenna’s Adidas campaign last year in November:

y/n_l/n: i will be the only one applauding the longest for u

y/n_l/n: tis is why i got adidas merch

Fast forward to Christmas with a dump of Jenna’s favorite people (Y/N included) in December last year:

y/n_l/n: I love you this is why I wanted to bake the turkey

y/n_l/n: merry christmas to my favorite person

Another one to a selfie of Jenna posted this year in April:

y/n_l/n: oh i’m interested, what’s your number?

y/n_l/n: sign my contract to be with me forever? comes with a long time of house wife chores!

What do you think? Are they just really good friends with the cutest flirting? Or secretly dating? Answer us down in our poll, cute, or absolute?

Final vote with 20K votes

Cute: 24%

Absolute: 76%

—

carrots4life: but like, their relationship is both cute and absolute! why aint that a option?

mangofrosties: they are def dating istg i’ve never seen them both this happy unless they are together

You smile, looking away from your laptop as you kick your feet. You do feel like Jenna had a soft spot for you, she always hugged you first, tried picking you up, falling asleep with each other on set. But she was just your best friend, you would all say to interviewers.

The door slightly creaks as you turn, smiling. “Hey baby, I think you should see this.”

Jenna flops on the bed with you, letting you cuddle her as she kisses you and reads your screen, a goofy grin on her face.

“I guess they caught on that we might be more than friends. I mean, it's not a lie that we are best friends, girlfriends is just a small little detail."

“Cute and absolute.”

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #vada cavell x y/n #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x female reader #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega imagines #jenna ortega

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breannasfluff · 12 days ago

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“I’ve got to find them.” Danny breaks into the conversation, cutting off Harleen. “I won’t let people be experimented on when I can save them.”

Harleen rolls her eyes. “Honey, I’ve seen you fight, don’t get me wrong, but you’re going to need more than your fists to take this plot down.”

“Look, I know Batman isn’t a fan of Metas–”

“Since when?”

Danny rolls his eyes at the interruption. “Everyone knows that.”

Harleen glaring isn’t what Danny expects in response. “Signal is a meta. Are you tellin me that you’re biased against metahumans?”

“What? No! Why would I be?”

“Why would Batman?”

“But–but–!” Danny splutters, because all the rumors said Batman hated metas in his city. Ancients, it’s one of the reasons he chose to come here! “Wait, Signal is a meta? On Batman’s team?”

Harleen throws her hands up, letting out a half-moan, half-wail. “I’m surrounded by idiots! God, kid, what have you been doing in Gotham this whole time?”

“Delivering…pizzas?”

Pam puts a hand on Harleen’s arm. “Calm down, he’s not trying to cause trouble. He’s the least likely to be biased against metas.”

When Harleen doesn’t start ranting again, Danny restarts. “Anyway, I was going to say that I’ve been trying to lay low and keep things secret, but this is bigger than me. I’ll use my powers to get those people free, but I might need some help.”

“Wait, wait–you’re a meta?” Harleen’s eyes are a millisecond from popping out of her head.

“You didn’t know?” How didn’t she notice? Pam’s seen both sides of him, so it’s logical that she…told…Harleen.

Going by the death glare Harleen was turning on Pam, she hadn’t shared that information. The botanist holds up her hands, inching backward. “In my defense, I really thought you knew already?”

The scream is pure Harley and she tackles Pam. Plants form a net behind her before she can hit the floor and, for a minute, it’s a classic catfight.

Danny stays out of the way because maybe this was sort of his fault. He probably should have introduced himself back when he guessed their alters. But hey, he’s 16! Give him a break! Adults are supposed to have their crap together.

Read the rest here

#What Binds Us #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #danny fenton #batman #dcu #poison ivy #pamela isley #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #breannasfluff #my writing

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emmyrosee · 8 months ago

Note

Give us 22 with our boy osamu 😭🌷

22 with osamu… comfort 🥺

Your nails dig into your palms as you stare, blankly, at the book in front of you. You haven’t absorbed a word in the past twelve minutes, and it’s a book you haven’t touched in months. You should feel invested.

But you don’t. And it’s killing you.

You’re not quite sure why, but the happy whistling coming from Osamu has a well of tears flooding to your waterline, the books words start melting together and your breathing picks up at his happy, “hey baby.”

When you ignore him, you feel his gaze bore into you. “Uhh… babe? You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You… positive?” He says, and you screw your eyes shut. “I don’t want to prod you, but you seem tense, and I don’t like it for you.”

“Im fine, Osamu,” you grit your teeth. The next thing you know, a cup of juice gets placed next to your book, and he’s next to you, a warm hand on your back as he rubs soothing circles and god, you don’t want to take this out on him. Not when he treats you so good, not when he cares so much about you.

Not when you can’t do anything right, and yet he’s right there to love you.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, and you screw your eyes shut and shake your head. “Please? Let me in.”

You take a deep breath in and can’t help the wobbling in your voice, “I can’t… even… read correctly.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t read correctly!” You repeat, this time in a sob as you throw yourself into osamu’s stomach, his head immediately cradling the back of your head. “I’ve been trying and trying for the past twelve minutes, and I’ve retained none of it! My back hurts and my eyes keep vibrating, and I can’t even read correctly, for the love of god!”

He shushed you softly as his thumb gingerly rubs over your head, letting you cry it out for a bit in his shirt. You feel his breath pattern even out as an attempt to encourage you to do the same. You finally are able to stop crying long enough to breath, and he clears his throat.

“Are you doing your best?” He asks.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you doing your best right now?”

He’s not talking about reading. His words are carefully crafted to not just be about reading, and you wail into his stomach again. You nod, and he clicks his tongue, “then that’s okay. It’s okay to feel frustrated right now. But you know how to read, baby. You know how to open a book and retain every word that’s printed- you know that.”

You nod against him, and he continues, “you’re doing your best right now, and that’s plenty. I’m proud of you for all you’re doing. It’s enough- I promise you.”

“I don’t feel like it is,” you sniffle. “I don’t feel like it is enough.”

“It’s plenty,” he repeats. “Dont sabotage yourself into thinking otherwise.”

“Okay,” you whimper. You pull back to flick your eyes up at him, “I want to stop reading, please.”

He chuckles and grabs your bookmark to slip into the page, “what do you want to do?”

“I want to stay here, and cry more.”

“I can do that,” he promises, fixing his stance to be firmer and he guides you to rest your head back on his stomach. “Anything, for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, babe. You know that.”

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countryclubkook · 9 months ago

Note

thinking of topper’s gf cheating on him with rafe🤭

Favorite Secret

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating, mentions of alcohol, violence, blood, creampie, unprotected sex, P in V, not proofread

Summary: Your secret affair with Rafe almost goes terribly wrong when Topper decides to call in the middle of a hookup…almost

A/N: omg hii!! it’s been so so long since i’ve been on this account but I got a new job and a boyfriend🤭 life has been very very busy the last like year or so but I got the urge to write for my fav boy so I hope you guys enjoy this quick little fic🤍 and I hope all of you are well!

“Fuck Rafe, feels so good oh my god” you cried out, arching your back as your eyes rolled back when his cock hit the perfect spot inside of you. It was fucked up, screwing around with your boyfriends best friend, especially when Topper treated you so well. He bought you everything you asked for, took you on nice dates, held the door open, complimented you. Never did anything to hurt you…until that night, until that one party changed everything.

“Ugh come on Top, i’m begging you to just come for like 10 minutes. If you still don’t want to be there after that we can leave and just come back here, watch movies or something” you’d been begging for the last hour, it was the biggest party of the year and his best friend was hosting but he said he was too tired to go. You knew it was actually just because there had been whispers on the island that Sarah planned to crash it with John B and their new pogue friends.

As much as he swore to you he was over it, you know that wasn’t true and you were fine with it. You trusted him, after all you were the one there for him when she broke his heart the first time, having to be the one to pick up the pieces every single time he gave her chance after chance, you knew what it’d done to him and his trust. Having to risk seeing her there with the guy she cheated on him with didn’t exactly sound like such a fun time.

“Listen I love you, but I really would just rather stay in tonight okay babe? There will be many more parties that we can go to in the future” he said, giving you a soft smile and cupping your cheek with his hand. He could see the disappointment on your face and felt bad, you were obviously excited about this and here he was shutting it down over rumors.

“Okay, whatever you want to do” you let out a defeated sigh and nuzzled your cheek closer into his palm, not wanting to argue over something like this. It just wasn’t worth it and you did enjoy nights in with just the two of you, plus he was right, there would be another party by next weekend.

“Damn it” he muttered under his breath before shaking his head slightly, “Okay okay, 10 minutes and that’s it, deal?” he barely got out the last word before you were squealing and throwing your arms around his neck He wrapped his arms around your waist and let out a small laugh, the smile on your face lighting up the whole room.

“Thank you thank you thank you! We’re going to have so much fun okay? You’re not going to want to leave by the time those 10 minutes are up, this is going to be the best night ever” famous. last. words.

Everything was great, the two of you were having the time of your life. Drinking and dancing together, talking with Rafe and a few of your other friends, then you slipped away for five minutes to use the bathroom, 5 minutes. Who knew so much could go wrong in just 5 minutes.

You walked out to see a crowd forming around two people and heard shouting, you’d expected to walk over and see two guys fighting like usual. Both of them far too drunk to even make contact with the other, but instead you saw your boyfriend on top of John B, his fist connecting to his cheek over and over and over again. You didn’t even like the kid but seeing blood and spit fly from his mouth and his gurgled wails of pain made you feel bad and you knew you needed to stop it.

You saw Rafe standing nearby watching, small smirk on his face as his eyes darted from the two boys to his sister begging Topper to stop while she sobbed. You walked up to him and touched his arm to bring his attention to you.

“Y/N! What’s up?” he said it so nonchalantly, like the scene in front of you wasn’t even happening. You knew he hates the pogues, hell you know he’d let John B die right then and there and feel no remorse, but he was the only one you knew had even the slightest chance of stopping it.

“Rafe you have to make them stop, it’s over okay? If you guys wanted to teach them a lesson i think they’ve learned it so can you please make it stop?” you could see him thinking about it, his brows furrowing ever so slightly and eyes going from you to Topper and John B to Sarah and then back to you.

“Mmm, I don’t know Y/N/N…kind of feel like he deserves it don’t you? I mean my slut of a sister cheats on my best friend, your boyfriend, with that good for nothing pogue and then they have the nerve to show up here? To rub it in his face? Why should I stop them?” he cocked his head and gave you a smirk, leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and the other wrapped around his red solo cup full of god knows what. You knew the only way to convince him was to use the one card you knew would work, the one you hated using against him in all the time you knew him.

“Because you don’t want your dad finding out about it. You’re not even supposed to be throwing parties here, what happens if a pogue ends up dead because of the party and Ward finds out? I couldn’t care less if he dies, i’m just trying to save your ass right now so please” you saw his jaw clench, watched his chest start rising and fall slowly, more heavily than before, and you knew it worked.

“Fuck! Fine, i’ll handle it” he yelled before throwing his cup on the ground and walking over to the two, by this point John B was barely conscious and it’s like Topper was in his own world. Rafe walked over and pulled him off by the collar of his shirt before ushering Sarah to attend to her boyfriend, screaming that the party was over and for everyone to get the fuck out.

People quickly dispersed, whispering to each other about what just happened, until it was just the three of you left at tannyhill. Top was still fuming, veins bulging out, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest rapidly heaving, knuckles bruised and bloody, a crazed look in his eyes. You tried to walk up to him to calm him down but it’s like he couldn’t even see you, he instead turned around and walked to his jeep before getting in and driving away, leaving you stranded.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed, standing at the bottom of the driveway watching the taillights disappear as they got further and further away.

You walked back up to the porch where Rafe was waiting, looking awkwardly at the ground unsure of what to say. What are you supposed to do in this situation other than offer them a ride…or in this case alcohol.

“I’m sorry Y/N, that was shitty of him. Give him some time to cool off and he’ll come back to his senses, if you uh, if you want you could just crash here. I would offer to drive you home but you know…” he said, making a brief gesture to himself “i’m kind of drunk so, don’t really want to risk hurting you. There’s plenty of alcohol if you want to just get drunk and pass out in the guest room, the beds freshly made and I think Sarah still has some clothes here that would fit you.”

“Thank you Rafe, that’s really sweet of you. Do you think you could um, stay with me? Just hang out here and talk, drink a little, I just don’t want to be alone right now” you sounded so pathetic, tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.

“Yeah, yeah absolutely”

One drink turned into another and then another, the both of you drunk and giggling while you talked. And then it happened, one little glance at his lips in a moment of shared silence, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, and you were in his lap kissing him. His hands roaming all over your body until you were pulling away to tell him to take you to the bedroom.

Clothes flying, drunken squeals and giggles slipping out between your moans, the way he made you feel, those were the only things you can clearly remember. And then you woke up the next morning staring at his naked chest, but you didn’t feel guilty for it, instead you wanted it to happen again.

And it did, it happened multiple times a week. Topper did apologize, made up for his behavior that night, but you’d already got a taste of Rafe and now you were hooked. He never suspected anything, didn’t notice the little shared glances between the two of you when you all hung out, the way Rafe’s hand would brush against your thighs, his little whispers in your ear that made you squirm, he was just happy you forgave him. You never thought you’d be at risk getting caught until now, when you were on all fours and Rafe was thrusting into you from behind, one hand tangled in your hair and the other gripping your hip to pull you back into his cock. The both of you were so lost in pleasure that Rafe almost didn’t hear his phone going off, he quickly moved to grab it off the table and answer it.

“Topper, what’s up man?” your eyes widened, panic starting to kick in. You’d thought it was over, he knew, someone had seen something and told him, he put the pieces together, he was calling to tell him he knew.

“Y/N? Yeah she came by to pick something up, said she left it here the last time you guys were over and she had to be out this way anyway. Think she’s still upstairs” you let out a moan when he thrusted back into you unexpectedly, turning your head back to look at him with a bewildered expression. He just gave a a smirk and held his finger to his lips before moving it back to your hip and pulling you back into him to meet each thrust.

You dropped your face into the mattress to muffle any loud moans, pure bliss taking over your body each time Rafe’s cock pressed against that little spot inside your pussy, hoping the call would be over soon. And then the son of a bitch flips you over, puts you on your back and gives you that look. You know, the one that just screams ‘i’m up to no good and you’re about to hate me for this’.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, looking up at him in confusion while trying not to make a sound.

“Actually, she just came down. You wanna talk to her real quick before she finishes up and heads that way?” if looks could kill he’d be six feet under right about now, you shook your head but it was too late, the phone was by your ear and you had no choice.

“Hey baby” it came out shakier than planned and you hoped he wouldn’t question it, it was a lot harder hiding the fact you were cheating on your boyfriend when the man you’re cheating with had his cock buried deep inside your pussy thrusting into you like his life depends on it while on call with said boyfriend.

“Is everything okay? You sound a little winded babe” he was always so concerned, wanting to make sure you were okay at all times if he even suspected something was wrong.

“Better tell him you’re okay princess, don’t let him find out his best friend is balls deep inside his girlfriends pretty pussy” Rafe whispered in your ear, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck and chest.

“Yeah, just a lot of running around the house looking for my ring is a-all” you stuttered out when Rafe pushed all the back into you again, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Okay…well I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? There’s this really nice restaurant i’ve been wanting to take you to, finally managed to get a reservation, and there was something I wanted to talk to you about” you weren’t even fully listening to what he was saying to be honest, you were paying more attention to how good you felt and the smell of Rafe’s cologne, the way his skin felt against yours, how your bodies seemed to mold together perfectly.

“Yea-yeah babe. Sounds great” you were about to let out a moan when long ring clad fingers found their way into your mouth and you, on instinct, bit down slightly.

“Great! I’ll be at your place to pick you up in like an hour okay? I love you”

“Great! Love you too bye” you quickly got out before hanging up and letting out a moan, digging your nails into Rafe’s back.

“Fuck baby i’m close, you want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want a little reminder that even if you’re with him, you’ll always be mine?” you could only nod, small whimpers filling the room.

A few more lazy thrusts before he pushed all the way into you and stayed there, feeling his cock twitch while he filled you with his cum. Your pussy clenching around him while you came at the same time, head thrown back and lips parted moaning his name, a white ring forming on his cock from your cum mixing with his. He pulled out after a few seconds and pulled you to your knees before sliding his cock in your mouth.

“Suck it off baby, just clean it up for me” and you did, licking every drop of your cum off his cock before he pulled out and got dressed.

You went to grab something to wipe the cum away when he stopped you.

“Nah, you go on your little date with my cum leaking out of you”

You gave him a dazed look before nodding and throwing your dress back on followed by your shoes, giving him a kiss and heading for the door.

“That was fun Rafe, i’ll call you later okay?”

“I know you will pretty girl, I look forward to it.” the smile on his face was genuine, not one that he had after a meaningless hookup, but one of true happiness. You brought out the best in him and he couldn’t even have you in any way other than this.

“Me too, I better go now. See ya” you were almost out the front door when you heard him yell your name. You turned around to see him leaning in the doorframe of his bedroom, waiting to see what he had to say.

“You’re my favorite secret”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #topper thornton imagine #rafe smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks smut #outer banks fic

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suuuupernovaaa · 4 months ago

Text

Neteyam is angry with his beloved, and doesn’t know what to do with those feelings.

The anger deep in the pits of his stomach is manifesting in restlessness. Neteyam cannot sit still. He is pacing, throwing his arms around, shaking, anything to keep the thoughts at bay.

The image of her, bloodied, gone from him forever. He can’t shake it. Her last breath shuddering from her chest, while he wails at her side.

He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, willing the picture away.

“Neteyam?” his mother’s calm voice comes from just outside his mauri pod. “Come,” she beckons, and like a good son, he follows.

His mother leads him to her, where she sits at Lo’ak’s bedside, holding his hand while the healer tends to him.

He stares at her chest, watching it rise and fall, taking in healthy breaths. Her eyes dart around as tears pool in them, threatening to spill over onto her dirty cheeks.

She looks up and sees him, and clouds cross her face. His mother kneels next to her and gently nudges her, until his mate to be releases Lo’ak into his mother’s care and stands up to join Neteyam.

He turns and exits, and his beloved follows.

Far away from any prying ears, Neteyam leads them to the beach, not stopping until they are ankle deep in the quiet waters.

“I’m sorry, Neteyam,” the woman says with fear in his voice, and his anger only grows. “I did try to stop him. I’m so sorry.”

Neteyam hates himself. He hates himself for being blind, and foolish, and angry. This woman was promised to him when they were only children, and he took her for granted these nearly 18 years since. She was always there, and he grew accustomed to her presence. He forgot to delight in her.

Seeing her this morning, on the ground next to his brother, covered in blood and as still as the stars, sent such a panic and rage through him that he realized it for the first time.

The depth of his love for her. The way her smile and voice are like a warm embrace. How much he needs to see and touch her every day. How desperate he is to claim her as his own, in every way.

She is everything to him, and he thought he had lost her.

“When I saw you there, I thought you were dead. I thought I’d lost you forever.” His voice is small, measured, and he is so close to breaking into tears.

She reaches out to him, and he leans into her touch, her fingers gently resting on his cheek.

“I’m whole, ‘Teyam. I would not leave you yet.”

He opens his eyes to see her smiling.

“I’ve been so angry all day that you put yourself in danger.”

Her smile fades and he knows, for certain, that she did not realize he cared that much. He has failed her in this.

“I’ve done you a disservice, by not expressing to you before now how ardently and wholly I love you.”

He would have been too embarrassed to say the words before today, but nearly losing her has changed everything.

“You are everything to me. Absolutely everything,” he says. “I won’t lose you. Not due to your own misplaced bravery, or my brother’s foolishness. You won’t be out of my sight, from this moment forward.”

He doesn’t care how controlling it sounds. He won’t risk her for anything. Nothing else compares to her.

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist. He pulls her tightly to him, breathing in the saltwater scent of her braided hair as he rests his chin on the top of his head.

“I love you too. You can be my shadow, if it brings you comfort.”

He can feel her lips turn up in a smile against the skin of his chest, and he smiles too.

Her shadow.

That sounds good.

#neteyam fic #Neteyam #Neteyam X reader #avatar twow

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nathanbatemanfucker · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming)

pairing: college!miguel o’hara x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, smut, rivals to lovers, teasing

wc: 735

an: wrote this for the sweetest most lovely @campingwiththecharmings, i hope you enjoy bb 🥰

kinktober masterlist | misc. masterlist

“Are you giving up?” Miguel asks you after several moments of silence.

“What? No!” You glare down at him breathlessly.

Why does the man who grinds your gears like it’s job have to be so attractive? Smooth skin, deep brown eyes, the cheekbones of Adonis. It pisses you off, but at least he can make you feel good. That’s all this is, all you want it to be. It’s sex. Just sex. Or maybe that’s what you keep telling yourself.

His grip on your hips tightens, shifting them up and down slowly. The sweet drag of his cock makes your mind blank, a shiver skating down your spine. He watches you with hooded eyes, drinking in every expression and sound that leaves you. He loves you like this, warming his cock just on the edge of pleasure as he quizzes you over and over again on this week’s physics lecture.

“Then answer the question,” He says, eyes glittering with mischief.

“I-I’m thinking,” You insist, though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He’s been teasing you for a while now— keeping you pinned on his cock with a thrust or roll of hips here and there. You’re dizzy and needy, all you can focus on is him. On him making you cum.

“About how good my cock feels?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughs beneath you, loud and full, and your breath catches at the way it sends him a hair deeper. “You can’t think that was a good comeback.”

You groan, swatting playfully at his chest, “Please, Mig, can’t we just get off first?”

He sits up in a move that makes you whimper, nuzzling his nose against yours, “Where’s the fun in that? You could just admit that I’m smarter. I’ll fuck you however you want after that.”

“You fucking wish.”

Snaking his hand between your slick bodies he presses two fingers to your clit as he continues to goad you, “We both know it’s true, c’mon angel, don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Yes,” You moan, head falling to the side. You don’t care anymore, you just need more. You need him.

“Yes, what?”

“You’re smarter, just fuck me. Please.”

He holds you tight to his chest, pressing you into the mattress and pinning your hands down above your head. While he’s fucking you earnestly now, his hips grind against yours at a leisurely pace, pressing against that sensitive spot inside you. All you can do is gasp and groan beneath him, listening to the filth that pours out of his mouth.

I’ve got you. There you go. So cock drunk, look at you. Cum for me, honey.

You do just that, cumming for him with a high pitched wail that he cuts off with a kiss. Your mind whirls, so much so that you don’t notice when he joins you in your peak, or when he rolls to lay beside you, still holding you close.

“I take it back. You don’t play fair,” You quip once your mind returns to you, breath still labored.

He raises a brow at you, cupping your face with his hand to tilt your chin up, “When has this rivalry ever been fair?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“And clearly, you need some tutoring,” He teases, grin widening when you roll your eyes at him. “Stay— I’ll make us dinner.”

“Dinner,” You repeat skeptically, looking over at him to gauge his seriousness.

“Yes, two people eating a meal together at night. A common occurrence, querida.”

“Like…like a date?” You ask softly.

Miguel’s gaze flatters— something you’ve never seen before. He’s the spokesman for confidence, even if he’s wrong he’s always ready to assure you that he can do better. But right now…he looks shy. It throws you off.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, like a date.”

Silence spreads between you two. You have to be cautious about this— what if it’s one of his jokes? A way to get in your head.

“What happened to this being a rivalry?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m tired of fighting,” He looks up at you, and there’s something soft, something gooey about the way he’s looking at you.

Your mouth pulls up into a shy smile as you say, “Well. Dinner’s not gonna cook itself.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he rises out of the bed, shimming into his boxers. Leaning down he kisses you, murmuring into your mouth, “Stay put smart ass.”

oscar: @honeybrowne, @pastanoodles11, @steven-grants-world, @stevengrcnt, @greg-montgomery, @lesbianhotch, @mccn-bcys, @marc-spectorr, @whatthefishh, @simpforbritgents, @maisondenachtai, @silversprings-mp3, @flightlessangelwings

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #arson’s kinktober #fawktober2023 #not sfw

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loveharlow · 2 years ago

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ajax x vamp!reader who turns into a bat & cuddles up to ajax whenever she’s anxious & he either keeps her on his beanie (comfy for her), on his chest (if he’s lying down), in his hands or in his jacket pocket<3

I really hope you like this bc I do, this request was too cute. This isn't really a blurb but it's not a full fic either. Would this be considered a drabble? Mini-fic?

“JAX! AJAX! HELP ME!” Ajax turned his head at the sound of me wailing through the courtyard, the few people around turning their heads to look at me — the girl who was sprinting full speed towards her boyfriend.

I didn’t slow down as I grew closer, causing me to tumble into him as he wrapped his arms around me. A puff of air left his lips as I crashed into his chest. I was breathing heavily, trying to catch my breath while moving in his arms to try and look behind me.

“What’s wrong?” He chuckled, looking down at me. My eyes were wide and my lips were parted, I probably looked crazy and paranoid and, in a sense, I was.

“I was looking for Wednesday in her and Enid’s dorm-” I started, speaking through labored, deep breaths. “-And I accidentally broke one of the keys on her typewriter when I almost tripped over Thing because I didn’t see him and now Wednesday is power walking after me like Micheal Myers and she looks like she wants to kill me-”

“Slow down...” He coaxed, rubbing one hand up and down my back for comfort. “You gotta calm down before-”

“Y/n.” A flat, feminine voice perked up from behind me. Ajax and I were too busy talking to one another that neither of us noticed Wednesday, in all of her dark glory, approaching us. At the sound of her voice, knowing she was most likely mere inches behind me, I gasped and all of sudden I was out of Ajax’s arms and floating mid-air.

Shit.

Ajax sighed and tipped his head to the side to look at Wednesday. “Look at what you did.” He said exasperatedly, throwing his arms out.

The girl simply quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “This? Has nothing to do with me. She damaged my typewriter. I didn’t even know she could do…” She examined by small, winged, floating form. “This.”

“It’s not by choice.” Ajax informed the girl, cupping his hands for me to land in them. I flew over to his joined palms and rested in them. “Not all the time anyway. It happens when she gets anxious. I’ve been trying to help her, though. This is a small setback…”

Wednesday scanned me with her eyes for a few more moments before blankly shrugging her shoulders. “Well, I apologize for startling you.” She spoke, then pointed her finger at my figure in Ajax’s hands. “But you will fix my typewriter.” She said sternly before turning on her heel and walking away.

Then Ajax was lifting his hands to his eye level, me turning around to face him. “Y’know, I know this sucks for you,” He started. “But you’re really cute like this. Not saying you’re not cute all the time-”

I put my head down and shook it in disappointment. “Don’t shake your head at me, I was being nice.” He said in his defense. Sometimes, I wish I could speak like this but unfortunately, that doesn’t come with the perks of being a vampire.

Suddenly, the bell was ringing and only then did I realize the school day was still ongoing which meant that-

“I know you hate this…” Ajax started, pity in his eyes. I could feel my tiny bat ears fall and my eyes fall sad. He was going to have to put me in his pocket until I changed back — which would take a few hours seeing as I still had no control over it. He looked up and around to see the swarms of students coming out of their classes to go to the next.

Looking back at me, he had a sorry expression on his face. “I love you. Sorry.” Was all he said before he gently slid me in his pocket. It wasn’t uncomfortable or unfamiliar. It was just nerve-wracking because when he first started to carry me around like this, he forgot I was in his pocket one time and threw his jacket into his hamper.

It was actually quite comfortable there. It was warm and soft and surprisingly easy to breathe.

It wasn’t long before Ajax settled down into class, where I was supposed to be as well. Quietly informing the teacher of my predicament as to not tell the whole class, an act which I silently thanked him for before dozing off in his pocket.

I WOKE UP, STILL IN THE COMFORT OF AJAX'S POCKET, TO THE FEELING OF FINGERS INVADING THE SPACE. Realizing that class had probably ended long ago, along with the school day, I crawled into the hand and held steady as Ajax introduced me back to the comfort of the outside — the sun beaming in my sore, tired eyes as I shielded them with my wings.

He seemed to be standing in the yard near where the Poe Cup is held, his usual spot to meet up with Xavier after school.

Speaking of the devil, said boy was making his way over to us. His eyes squinting in confusion the closer he got, trying to decipher what Ajax was holding in his hands. When he came to a stop in front of us, he was trying his best to hold back laughter.

Even in my current state, I managed to roll my eyes. You see, Xavier and I were friends but our friends would like to describe us as having a brother-sister type bond. However, this meant that Xavier tended to tease me and be a pain in my ass constantly.

“Again?” He wheezed out.

Ajax stood back shaking his head at his hysterical friend. I, however, decided that Xavier didn’t deserve to laugh at my misfortune. So, during his fit of laughter, I took off from Ajax’s hand, him desperately reaching for me and having no idea what I was up to, and began to swarm around Xaviers head.

His laughter switched to him frantically trying to swat me away as Ajax was the one laughing now and I would be too if I weren't, y’know. I wanted to annoy Xavier as much as possible, flying by his ears, messing with his hair.

“Jax, man, get your murderous girlfriend!-” Xavier pleaded, still swatting aimlessly.

“Alright, alright,” Ajax started, shaking off his amusement as he motioned his hand to wave me back over. “I think he’s got it, love.”

Stopping my harmless assault on the artistic boy, I made my way back to Ajax, perching myself on the top of his beanie as Xavier stood back fixing his hair, shooting me a playful glare. “I will see you and your vicious animal later.” He said in mock-anger before heading off.

I couldn’t see his face but I could tell his eyes were looking up, trying to look at me on top of his head. “Y’know he’s going to kill me for that, right?”

Even though he received no response, he chuckled and moved his head around a bit, signaling me to move onto another part of him. I chose his shoulder. “I can’t wait until you change back. You're going to make me public enemy number one.”

©loveharlow

#ajax petropolus wednesday addams #ajax petropolus wednesday #ajax petropolus x fem!reader #ajax petropolus x you #ajax petropolus x y/n #ajax petropolis x reader #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus #ajax petropolus x reader #ajax petropolus x normie!reader #ajax petropolis x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday fanfic #wednesday #wednesday (2022)

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3-2-whump · 9 months ago

Text

Tear-Filled Noncon (Mutual!)

it's a working title, I'm bad with titles

Continuation of this idea

Art here

TW/CW: because this is a continuation of the previous noncon idea, a lot of the same warnings will apply. Rape/Noncon, intimate whumper, obsessed whumper, domestic violence (including brief head trauma), some degradation, inner thoughts that go a bit dark. If I missed anything, pls let me know!

He turned the key slowly in the lock, opened the door as quietly as he could, and closed it equally as carefully behind him. Whumpee’s eyes swept over the living room. The apartment was quiet and dark, dimly illuminated only by the city lights in the window. More importantly, the door to the master bedroom was closed, with no light peeking out from underneath. Whumpee sighed in relief; he’d gotten away with it.

The next breath caught in his throat as he was body-slammed into the door. A large hand pinned both wrists above his head when he tried to defend himself from the unseen force. The other hand yanked his head back by his hair, eliciting a surprised yelp of pain. “Where were you?” a warm breath hissed in his ear.

Whumpee squirmed under his master’s punishing grasp. “I-I can explain-”

“Like hell you can!” The hand in Whumpee’s hair drove his head forward and smashed it against the door. Sharp pain unfurled in the back of his skull as stars danced across his blurry vision. “Your curfew is midnight at latest, and it’s nearly two in the morning,” Whumper's angry voice thundered past the incessant throbbing in his head. The hand on his wrists tightened into a bruising grip. “So tell me-” Whumpee cried out in pain as the hand in his hair pulled harder. “Where were you?”

“You’re hurting me!” Whumpee gasped.

“Well you’re hurting me!” Whumper let go of him at once, only to throw him to the floor of the entrance. Whumpee landed hard on his side. He reflexively tried to curl into a ball to protect himself, but within moments the man had flipped him onto his back to better climb on top of him. A loud ripping sound punctuated Whumpee’s whimpers in the darkness as his shirt was torn clean in two. “Coming home late at night, with no regard to my rules, and smelling like a cheap motel –wait…” Whumper’s eyes zeroed in on a necklace of hickeys that rested on the young man’s collarbone. He slapped him, once, then twice, then again. “Who gave you those hickeys?” Slap! “Who were you sleeping with?!” Slap! “Well, answer me, whore!”

Whumpee shook his head, the tears streaming down his face as he continued to beg for mercy. “Clearly you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” Whumper huffed. “No problem, this just means I’ve got to remind you!” He brusquely unbuttoned Whumpee’s pants and pulled them and his boxers down the young man’s trembling thighs. Whumpee’s pleas of “no, no, stop, please, stop” went entirely ignored as he was flipped onto his stomach. His begging took on a frantic pitch as his body started visibly shaking. He’d never been taken from behind before, and this new position made him panic.

“You don’t deserve to be fucked like a person, so you’ll take it like the wanton little bitch you are!”

“No, no, stop, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, no, I’m sorry!”

“Shut up!” Whumpee wailed as his hips were wrenched up from the floor and Whumper entered him without any prep or lube. The man was not gentle, far from it. Quick, desperate thrusts punctured him deeper than he was used to. It was the roughest he had ever been with him, unquestionably, feeling less like having sex and more like being torn in half. Stubbornly enough, Whumpee’s body reacted to these more intense sensations all the same, especially when the man on top of him continuously slammed into that sweet spot inside of him.

“Look at you,” Whumper commented derisively, a hint of bitterness in his gravelly voice. “Hard as a rock already, you slutty thing! You’d be happy with just anyone’s cock inside your ass, wouldn’t you?” Whumpee’s cheeks colored in shame as a shaky moan interrupted his pleas. “But you shouldn’t be; you’re mine!”

He felt a thin, warm fluid trickle past the cock pummeling his hole. The man above him crushed him further into the carpeted floor. “I own this ass, and it is mine to fuck,” he screamed, “you got it?! No one else’s, just mine!”

He didn’t have to see behind him to know he was bleeding. At least it makes Master’s thrusts a little less painful, he thought. That feeling of morbid relief alone made him cry even harder. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Why am I not enough for you?!” Whumper’s voice wavered with emotion. His angry thrusts turned sloppier as he continued. “Damn it, and damn you! I gave you everything you could ask for; I gave you everything you could have needed! I fed you, clothed you, made you into the man you are today, so why?! What are they giving you that I’m not?!” The man’s voice caught on the last question. Whumpee felt small wet drops of liquid fall onto the nape of his neck. Tears? He realized with horror that Whumper was crying as he was raping him.

“M-Master, I-I’m sorry, please-”

“I said, shut up!” He pulled Whumpee back by the hips until he was flush with the older man’s pubic bone, burying himself to the hilt and spilling deep inside him. They stayed in that position for an uncomfortably long time. Suppressed sniffling sounds filled the entryway, and Whumpee knew they weren’t all coming from him. Whumper eventually pulled out, leaving his hole gaping and obscenely oozing cum. He settled on the floor next to Whumpee and repositioned them both onto their sides. “I love you, boy,” he murmured as he pulled him closer to spoon him. “I don’t enjoy hurting you, boy.” The tension gradually left Whumpee’s body as he accepted the forced cuddles. The man planted a kiss on the back of his ear, right above the barcode tattoo that marked him indelibly as property. The kiss was wet and tinged with sadness. “So why do you make me hurt you?”

Because what we do –no, what you do to me- is not supposed to feel good. How could it feel good? I didn’t want it, I don’t want it, and I will never want it, so why does my body betray me every time? What if it’s because you’re right? What if this really was my true purpose? To be nothing more than a pair of holes to fill and a body to break under yours? What if I am all those names you call me because I think this feels good?

And, what if I act out, do all the things I know will test your patience and make you rough and uncaring so that it finally hurts? So that it finally doesn’t feel good, and I don’t have to ask if my body and my mind are on the same page about me being violated? What if that’s why I make you hurt me? Would you stop? Would you hurt me more? Would it even matter?

That is everything Whumpee wanted to say. Instead, through a throat ripped raw from screaming, he rasped, “I don’t know.”

#oh my god this took a hot second lmao #whump #whump prompt #whump writing #intimate whumper #whumpee #whumper x whumpee #nsfwhump #tw rap3 #tw noncon #tw domestic violence #tw head trauma #tw degradation #no beta we die like my protestant upbringing

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dadsbongos · 1 year ago

Note

PLEASE MORE AIRHEAD W GOJO SHOKO GETOU 🙏🙏PLEASE

5.1 K words

warnings - i borderline refused to proofread this, suguru wears a skirt and it awakens something in you, also suguru's anti-non sorcerers agenda, dumb timeline doesn't make sense (get over it), filler arc fic

summary - crack that i decided to take seriously, you and the gang go on a beach mission! and some things don't turn out as expected...

“Woah, ‘Toru, check out this yellow!” you jab a finger into the cold, hard plexiglass caging the many frozen flavors from onlooking civilians, “It’s, like, traffic sign yellow!”

“Who would eat that?” he grumbles, glaring at the engraving below the tub - advertising that specific hideous color as a special new taste, “For 4,000 yen?”

“Get me coffee, kay?” Shoko shoots you a glance from over her phone, thumb dancing across her cramped keypad, “And keep it down, you’ll piss off the vendor.”

“Yeah,” Suguru slips up beside you, nose wrinkled and chin tucked close to his chest to avoid the obnoxious scent of sweaty, huffing people, “You’re both making a scene,” his brows furrow over at your accomplice, “Didn’t you just get scolded by Yaga yesterday, Satoru?”

Suguru knows he did, actually, because who else would’ve been the one that held a bag of frozen peas to the hot red lump in Satoru’s forehead for thirty whole minutes?

“Hey,” but you’ve paid neither any mind, pointing at the other end of the display bay to a red-and-white swirled tub. The edges have browned together and its melting points have re-frozen in an unattractive slime, “Gross!” taking Satoru by the hand, you drag him over to the far corner, “Let’s check it out!”

“Hm, we’re way too early,” Shoko pokes her head through the turquoise and cream-striped tent flaps as you order.

“And one coffee scoop,” Suguru calls to you and Satoru when the clan heir beside you finishes demanding two cups of the red velvet cheesecake, pointedly ignoring the baggy-eyed, slouching teenager behind the steel counter.

“On it,” the boy grumbles, scooping up each order in hurried, jerky swings.

Satoru swings a lanky arm through one of yours, head leaning onto yours as he pathetically whines, “My blood sugar is crashing… Won’t make it much longer…”

Two plastic cups in illustrated covers of the stall’s logo slide to another awaiting couple as Satoru sets his card down in preparation to pay. You turn back to Suguru and gesture to the tubs of ice cream, frowning when he merely shakes his head. Shoko inches between you and Satoru, breaking your chain, and you take that as an opportunity to huddle into your broodier friend.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

Satoru turns back at the sound of your voice, abandoning his credit card on the counter, and Shoko watches silently.

“No, you enjoy it,” Suguru insists, smiling despite your puppy-eyed pout.

“But I don’t want you to miss out!”

“I’m happy enough that the four of us can go on a mission again.”

“How sweet,” Satoru wrangles an arm over Suguru’s shoulders, sighing with all the dramatics of a tantrum throwing toddler, “It has been too long since our last mission altogether.”

Shoko nods, moving next to you with one hand jammed into the pocket of her skirt, “It doesn’t help that you two,” she points at the boys, “decided to pick up a couple problem children.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you chirp, “That’s not fair to the girls, and Megumi’s really nice when you know him!”

“Ehh,” she waves her hand loosely, rolling her eyes, “I’ll cross those bridges when they get to high school; I’m no good with kids.”

Shrugging, you think of how well-behaved and kind both Tsumiki and Megumi are (well, Megumi has his moments), “Neither is Satoru and the Fushiguro’s seem fine.”

“Hey,” Satoru is quickly shrugged off his friend’s shoulder when he wails into Suguru’s ear with abandon, “Not fair! I’ve really improved over the months!”

“You still make him stir fry with bell peppers!”

“It’s delicious!”

You glower at his defense, “Doesn’t matter how tasty it is - Megumi’s not gonna eat it!”

Suguru can’t help but ignore the shouting in his ears in favor of appreciating the sight before him. You and Satoru and Shoko. Knowing Nanako and Mimiko are safe and happy at home. With your perfume and even Shoko’s natural nicotine cling working overtime to mask the scent of every monkey crowding this beach. Ignoring the monkeys got easier over time, keeping the real reasons he’s decided to carry on fighting in mind instead. Satoru and Shoko and Nanako and Mimiko and Haibara and Nanami and Yaga and, of course, you.

Two hands slam into his back, the rest of you just barely peeking out from around Suguru’s broad shoulders to glare at Satoru, who’s slung his tea shade sunglasses to the pad of his nose in a vague, blue-eyed threat.

Suguru claps a hand harshly against his friend’s shoulder, jostling the boy’s body, “Put them away, Satoru.”

Shoko bounds out of the small parlor with both hands in her pockets, murmuring something about needing a smoke break.

Satoru pulls his glasses entirely from his face, grinning at Suguru, “Aw, trying to be the big, brave knight?”

“Satoru,” Suguru calls lowly, impatience only thinly veiled.

Effectively cutting off the altercation, a hand cuffs the backs of yours and Satoru’s uniform collars and drags you both towards the open tent flap. Suguru curls his hands into fists at the sight but staves off a retort, even as both you and Satoru are thrown into the sand. A taller man with thicker arms, but the same sunken eyes and tight frown as the teen behind the counter squints down at the both of you, “And stay out!”

“Aw, we didn’t even get our ice cream…”

Shoko tosses her head back, melodic laugher ringing sweetly into your ears before she snaps forward, pinching at your cheek, “Sorry your boytoys couldn’t complete their mission.”

Quirking a brow at her, you don’t even bother to swipe away her fingers on your cheek, “Boytoys…?”

Satoru gasps, ‘tsk’ing at Shoko while covering your ears, “Hey, keep her innocent!”

Shoko removes her hand from you just to knock Satoru’s off the sides of your head. She looks over her shoulder, lips pursing as she surveys the cramped line of tented and umbrella’d stalls, “We should split up. You two are just causing trouble,” she grins at Satoru’s offended look, “As usual.”

Suguru hums, testy and wholly argumentative, “I think we should lay low for the next couple of hours and come back. The curse is more likely to come out at night.”

You frown at the thought of being stuffed into a yellow-walled, vaguely blood-stained, two bed hotel room.

And Suguru backtracks, “Nevermind.”

Snagging you by the arm, Shoko jerks you into her side and jabs a thumb over her shoulder, “We’ll be investigating some swimsuit tents, get a sense of any residuals or smaller curses,” then she points at the duo before you, “You two should find your own thing.”

You’ve given no say before being dragged off to a snowy white tent, sand kicked up and sticking to the flowy drapes. Even small shops for clothing can carry lingering, bothersome curses with anxiety over fat that naturally rolls and jiggles or peeking scars and colored splotches. And despite only having about two years of official sorcery under your belt, you’ve noticed that lingerie, typical underwear, and swimsuits were especially troublesome for gathering curses.

That’s especially noticeable when flyheads and low grade spirits crawl along the tarp, crinkling, unpleasant floor and clawing into the legs and necks of unassuming women. But Shoko has taken no interest in any of them.

Instead, she shoves another wood hanger into your face, “What about this one?”

“Mmm,” clicking your tongue, the sight of a neon orange with lemon yellow lining inspires no particular sparkles or electricity under your skin, “nah.”

Shoko nods and clinks the hanger back onto the rod, “Agreed.”

“Hey, Shoko?” you tilt your head at her, holding out the two swimsuit sets already dangling off your fingers, “How’re we paying for these?”

“Ah!” she snickers, fingers dipping into a skirt pocket before proudly displaying a black, plastic card in her palm, “The Strongest left his card out, so I’m teaching him a lesson,” tucking her hand back into hiding, she grins at you, “So rack up as many as you want.”

“Hmm…”

“He’ll hardly even know the money’s gone.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

She shrugs, “No.”

Your lashes narrow at that response, brows furrowing, before beaming at Shoko with an enthusiastic nod, “Okay :D”

“That’s the spirit!” she claps you on the back, like a father after his son’s first little league championship.

And like a bushy-tailed young child unburdened by popularity contests and pinching pennies and needing to press the best words into the best order to feel adequate, you gaze out at the seven, stunted racks with wonder. Golden wheat fields that sway in long waves under the wind that whistles through pokey tree branches. A land all yours.

And like every conqueror before, you’re eager to feed on the dancing wheat you don’t yet own, “I wonder which one I’ll wear first.”

“I wonder if they’d want something…” Suguru mutters, only for his own ears.

Satoru blows a raspberry from behind his friend, chin settling onto Suguru’s shoulder and staring down at the wiry, iron shelf with painted, glazed shells and tiny red-lipsticked ladies with thick black curls and wooden curves on plastic, circle podiums and chunky plastic beaded necklaces.

“You’re so obsessed.”

Suguru grunts, slamming an elbow into Satoru’s gut and making no contact, “You were thinking it, too.”

“Not like you,” Satoru waves off, patting himself down for the thin outline of his credit card. When the first search comes up entirely empty, he looks over at Suguru, “Uh,” then returns to his pockets, hands dipping into the gaps, “Huh.”

“What?”

“I don’t have my card,” Satoru taps his foot once, then twice, then shrugs, “Oops.”

“‘Oops,’” Suguru snickers, “Are you gonna cut it off?”

“It’ll turn up somewhere,” stretching his hands above his head, Satoru yawns, “Sorry we can’t get your girlfriend anything.”

“And Shoko. And she’s not my girlfriend… We really should’ve just gone to a hotel, all the smaller curses will be attracted to the dock.”

Satoru can’t even be bothered to deny Suguru his natural right to feeling smug, just turning and waltzing out from the cheap, tacky souvenir stand under a peachy umbrella. Sweat beads miserably down his back and forehead from under his black uniform, shoes sinking into the sand with every step towards the coast.

It was something that nagged at the both of them, honestly. The surface-level pointlessness of this mission, especially the early nature of your group’s settlement. And especially especially because it was so immediately easy to feel where the strongest cursed energy was coming from. Like this buzzing, tender freeze that washed over the both of them - pulling towards one spot on the cluttered beach.

A lone dock by the crashing shore. Splintering, crooked pillars with a deflated, banana yellow ducky floatie dangling between two planks. Likely yet another test of courage spot, popular among vacationing families with young siblings and cousins; eight children of varying ages missing.

“It is weird,” Satoru lowers his glasses along the bridge of his nose, “that all four of us were sent out. Nanami probably could’ve taken this out by himself if it’s just another grade two.”

Suguru shrugs from behind his friend, “Must be a good reason we were all sent out. Maybe the eight brats.”

“Jeez,” Satoru bats a hand backwards in an attempt to smack his friend, he misses completely, “At least sound sympathetic!”

Just before Suguru can reply, your voice is singing out their names. The two turn and Suguru is a little ashamed in the way his body stiffens at the sight of you in a cherry-print bikini. Shoko lingers at your back, texting who you all silently agree to be Utahime. You bounce into the spot before your friends, hands behind your back and a blinding grin curling into your cheeks.

“You look nice,” Suguru’s own voice is lost on him, heart beating so loud in his ears that he can’t quite hear himself. He hopes he sounded suave. He hopes it makes you forget every time he’s embarrassed himself in front of you, and all you see is the charming Suguru that your mom would just love.

“Aww, thanks!” you giggle, holding your bundled uniform tighter to your chest. And he’s even more humiliated over the hope that you’re trying to hide the pounding of your own heart.

Satoru nudges Suguru with an elbow and the favor is returned with a foot jamming down on Satoru’s shoe.

“Shoko and I both agreed,” you unknowingly interrupt their spat, “that before we all totally die, we should have fun on the beach!”

“You shouldn’t say it like that…” Suguru sighs, but the smile is still plain on his face. That question from earlier rises in him - why were you all sent here?

“I think that’s a great idea!” Satoru extends an arm towards you and gladly allows you to tug him towards the water, only releasing hold to let him reactivate his infinity.

Shoko watches from the shoreline with Suguru. She looks up at the man, flipping her phone shut, “You never complimented me, you know?”

“Huh?” Suguru looks first at Shoko’s twisted simper, her raised brow, her low hanging eyelids that let her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Then he notices - a black bikini hugging her own body. He flushes, not over the sight - but because he was caught, “Sorry.”

“You’re such a sucker,” she snickers.

He was caught with that familiar lump in his throat and lethally beating in his chest that only you could cause.

“Hey!” and, of course, it’s you again who calls to him, “C’mon, we wanna play chicken!”

And he’s caught again, red-faced; stripping off his shirt and shoes and socks while Shoko laughs at him. She holds out her phone and watches as he carefully wraps it in his uniform overshirt before trudging down the sands towards you and Satoru. Shoko wades through the crashing water towards Satoru, her hands find his shoulders when they all notice he hasn’t yet joined.

You’re pouting at him and Satoru is groaning, “Just get in! They’re pants - they’ll dry!”

“Easy for you to say,” Suguru huffs, squirming at the feeling of water sticking his pants to his shins as he slowly creeps into the chilled ocean, “Just use infinity for everything…”

“What was that?!” Satoru cups a hand over his ear, neck craning outwards as Suguru approaches, “Didn’t catch that last bit.”

“You’re annoying,” Suguru declares, latching to your side and crouching down just enough for you to scramble up onto his shoulders yet still keep his boxers dry. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, then your thighs bracket shakily around his waist. Suguru palms your thighs and helps lift you to sit up on the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Satoru yawns, hands on his hips, as Shoko tries yanking herself up onto his back.

“Hey!” she snaps, pounding a fist into his back knowing full well he wouldn’t feel it, “Bend down, would you?!”

“Huh?” Satoru turns to stare down Shoko over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at her, “Oh! Oops, sometimes I forget how short you are!”

“Hey!”

Suguru tilts his head back to look up at you, both arms secure around your legs, “You okay up there?”

You nod slowly, fingers gently brushing the stray hairs of his bangs from his face, “Uh-huh.”

“See,” Satoru gestures out to you and Suguru, “even our favorite bubble-brain got it done. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

And once again, Shoko digs a fist into his back (and then another when he mockingly hisses and whines).

…

“Don’t be long,” Shoko exhales, noxious smoke rising from her lips with a cigarette perched between two fingers and, in that same hand, texting Utahime once again.

“It’d be quicker if you weren’t slacking off,” Satoru ‘tsk’s, already heading down to the creaky dock with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His cheeks are flaring red from hours prior in the sun, even after the four of you had crawled into a hotspot restaurant to change and cool down.

“Thanks again,” Suguru still clings to your side and you let him, even leaning into it.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sugu,” you grin.

You hadn’t been concerned with how civilians would perceive Suguru in your uniform skirt when he changed out of his soaked pants - not that he’d really care how non-sorcerers think of him anyway. But some bizarre part of you can’t stop looking at his legs in your skirt.

He insisted that you keep your leggings, so his skin is bare to the moonlight past his mid-thigh.

It’s bizarre, most definitely, the part of you that keeps staring at the flex of his thighs beneath your skirt as you both soldier through the sand dunes. Your hand finds Suguru’s and you cradle his arm against your chest, Satoru nowhere in sight. The both of you shuffling under the dock, eyes narrowing in search of your little white-haired friend. You shift closer to Suguru the longer your search goes, hand winding tighter within his.

Wind blows under Suguru’s stolen skirt and chills against your skin, the waves lapping at mushy sand. Your blood beats in your ears, Suguru already peering up at the midnight sky through the gaps in the dock.

Hot air puffs against the side of your face, pale skin bouncing moonlight into your peripherals in a flash, “Boo!”

“Ah!” you squeal, jumping somehow closer into Suguru, glaring at the cackling man through narrowed lashes, “Gojo!”

“Aw,” Satoru pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, flicking the nonexistent tear at you, “So formal! Aren’t we friends?”

“Not after that!”

“Satoru,” Suguru’s resilience is quieter than yours, the hand not entwined with yours is firm on his hip, “You really scared her,” you nod with a ‘hmph!’, “She was already on edge, looking for you no less.”

Satoru drapes himself over you like a frail Victorian woman in shock, “I’m sorry,” he wraps both arms around your neck and squeezes you into his chest, “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm…”

A creak shutters just ahead. The deflated, wrinkly duck floatie shivers. All three heads turn into the abyss.

You tuck your chin close to your chest, wringing your arms around one of Suguru’s as you call, “Hey, Shoko?!”

“What?!” but her call is undeniably still in the direction where you three left her.

“Here it is,” Satoru murmurs, turning to grin at you, nudging his head towards the darkness just ahead, “Let’s go!”

Begrudgingly, you allow Suguru to guide you into the creaking, inky space under this dock.

“You’re making the curse stronger, you know?” Satoru turns to face you, walking backwards with both hands in his pockets.

You groan and go to argue back, but a blobby, brown, mucky curse plops in front of your group. The three of you pause and the little thing blinks up at your group.

It throbs.

“Ew!” you stomp down onto the curse, sand poofs up around your boot and the muddy body pops, splattering around your group’s feet.

“Didn’t even need a technique,” Suguru looks up from the scene of your crime, glaring back down into the darkness, “We weren’t sent here for that.”

The wind brushes past you again, your shoulders bunching up in a vain attempt to keep you warm with too-thin leggings. Suguru’s stolen skirt lifts and he pulls you tighter to his side. Satoru stares down the dock with a tight wound face, glasses slipping down his nose and eyebrows scrunched together with a scowl. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long while. Since Fushiguro, Toji had cut you down. Since that single, echoing shot in the dimly lit tomb’s main chamber.

“Ah…” Satoru switches the weight on his feet, snagging you and Suguru by the fronts of your uniforms and drags you both far to the right. Sand sloshes up in big, cloudy puffs; opaque, turquoise tentacles crash into the spot where your trio once stood, “This could actually be troublesome.”

“Stop being mysterious!” you pop your palm against the side of his head despite knowing his infinity is raised, “What’re you talking about?”

“This curse,” he rolls his eyes with all the annoying arrogance possibly mustered when you and Suguru tilt your heads at his pause, “This curse definitely has one of Sukuna’s fingers.”

“That would explain the loose ofuda,” Suguru notes.

You shiver at the mere idea of the King of Curses aiding your opponent, “How would that even happen?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs and releases the both of you, flexing his fingers of the remaining tension, “We definitely need to take it back though.”

“Definitely,” you nod curtly.

A bulbous head sinks into the moonlight, shiny and smooth and thin, wiry purple webs spread across the surface. The gelatinous skin ripples, entire head jiggling before the turquoise splits and gives way to an eyeball - it bulges wide and the pitch black pupils darts around the surrounding area before settling, shakily onto you, Suguru, and Satoru.

Two big, clawed hands latch onto the back of your uniform top, retching you back. A look up confirms it to be one of Suguru’s more beastly stored curses. Your friend himself stares up at you, “Try and get the eye. Satoru and I will distract the tentacles.”

You nod eagerly, showing off a thumbs up before jamming your arms straight to your sides, “You got it!”

And like the most impressive cartoon clown, you explode out towards the curse. Thrown from Suguru's strong arms ( :D ).

You rip your hands away from your sides and throw them out in front of you, fingers stretching wide as you hurdle towards the fleshy eyeball. Your fingertips are mere inches from grazing the eye, when the pupil turns onto you. A loud crash through sand rings out behind you, two calls of your name, and your heart shoots into your throat.

And the eyeball sinks back with another round of grotesque, rippling skin. You slam into the round head and bounce back off with a freshly punched-out gush of air.

“I got you!” Satoru calls from below, arms out wide to catch you before you could plummet into sand.

“That was such a dirty trick,” you huff, steadying back onto your feet and glaring at the curse. The eyeball peeps out, bumping from the top of its head.

With a teasing hum, Satoru finally tucks his glasses into his pants’ pocket, “It’d be a lot easier if you could just hurry up and learn Domain Expansion.”

“You can’t do it either, Satoru!” Suguru comes to both of your sides.

One of the forefront tentacles flicks up violently, crashing through the unstable, weak wood of the dock. Slats and splinters rain down as the tentacle flies towards your spot on the shore. Satoru and Suguru split from your sides while you remain firm in the sand.

Your arms fly out wide, grinning as you cheer, “Come in for a big hug!” wrapping your arms around the heavy limb, you squeeze and squish your hands down into the fleshy tentacle. The cursed energy of your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother and so on, courses through you in a raging fire. Your nails dig into the curse as you shout once more, “Snip!”

And the tentacle goes limp.

Sliding out from under the weight, you spot Satoru wringing a hand back - some invisible, evolving mass heaving in his palm and drawing the large octopus head forward.

Satoru calls out, “If you wanna swallow this one, you better hurry up and do something, Suguru!”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru watches his Rainbow Dragon untangle, sand flapping out with its tail and tearing up a lonely palm tree. He sweeps you up and seats you in front of him while flying forward on the creature’s back.

“Try and keep it busy for now,” he sets you back down on relatively even sand, “Satoru, make it puke out the finger! I’ll get it from behind!”

“Phrasing!”

You eye the two special grades with a groan, “I’m not a diversion, ya know?!”

But Suguru is already behind and beneath the curse’s line of sight, drawing his own ball of mass into his palm.

And, unfortunately, this pseudo-plan is one you’re already familiar with.

You attack the limbs and divert attention with Satoru as back-up while Suguru condenses and consumes.

But, also unfortunately, this pseudo-plan isn’t usually employed against special grade curses post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger. A special grade (post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger) with the intelligence to avoid your Cursed Technique.

“This isn’t working!” you shout at Satoru after having yet another tentacle shot out of grabbing-range.

He lets one of the remaining tentacles bash close against his infinity, using the force to get to your side.

“Then how ‘bout a change of plans?” Satoru takes no feedback before shooting you up and towards the creature's head, snagging and yanking tentacles to twitch the head upwards.

A gaping, drooly maw is exposed; gnashing, gummy walls in place of teeth. And beneath layers of squishy pink, is a lashing gray tongue. And where there’s a tongue, there must be a stomach.

“Woohoo!” you flail out your arms, squishing between the gums to dig your nails into the creature’s tongue (“The radula!” Shoko would tease, if she were watching). A shaky, ugly groan comes from the creature and it hangs its mouth open, trying to slip you off its organ - the sand is far below. You squeeze tighter when a gush of saliva drips down the tongue - fire rushes through your veins, scorching at your fingertips as you chant, “Snip!”

From above, a loud retch, and the deep purple roof gapes with a single, fleshy finger falling out.

You reach out hurriedly, hands clapping around the cursed object before the sudden effect of gravity takes precedent. The sand begins rushing upward, wind whipping rudely at your hair as the curse above you is sucked into an ugly mauve ball in Suguru’s palm. Not seconds after absorbing the curse, he sends his Rainbow Dragon down after you.

One arm swings around you, pulling you over in front of him, while the other holds the grotesque orb. He holds it less gingerly than you hold Sukuna’s finger, cradling the item to your chest.

“Yay! Thanks, Sugu’,” you lean into his chest, hands still tucked to your chest as you both come back down onto the uneven, pitted sand with scattered, rooted palm trees laying around carelessly.

“Are you hurt?” Suguru scans the skin he can see, “It’s saliva wasn’t venomous, right?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you shrug, “I’ll be okay!”

“And you, Satoru?”

“Don’t worry about me, I just got to be your pretty distraction.”

Suguru nods, turning away all the same to swallow his newest curse.

Satoru comes in front of you, white button up on display with his uniform jacket held out, he nods in the direction of your hands, “Here, we can wrap it in this until we get back.”

Dumping the finger into the center of his jacket, your attention is quickly stolen away by the way Suguru gags around the cursed orb. Satoru cradles the freshly wrapped finger to his chest, settling a hand against his friend’s quivering shoulder. You pat Suguru’s back, leaning your head against his arm as he shudders down the taste, watching his face stretch into a grimace.

But he quickly overcomes it when he notices how you and Satoru are preening over him, clearing his throat and shaking out his tense shoulders.

Another throat clears, further up the shore. A lithe, dainty hand waves, Shoko’s lips grinning around an unlit cigarette - her wave turns into a single finger, pointing up at the clear sky, “None of you put up a veil!”

“Oops…” you pout under the stars, they flicker as if winking just to tease you.

Satoru groans, flinging out his arms in exasperation, already wandering towards Shoko, “It’s nighttime, what does a veil even matter?!”

Suddenly, you perk up, nodding, “Yeah! Exactly!”

Suguru sighs, “Someone’s getting punished for this.”

You take his hand, dragging him through the sand, “Who do you think Yaga will choose?”

…

“It was her!”

Both Satoru and Suguru point over at you, brows furrowed in determination. Your hands squeeze tighter around your skirt (which you freshly got back from a re-pants Suguru), fists pushing into your thighs as the three of you kneel before Yaga.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, “No way, that’s really not fair! It was on all three of us!” when Yaga maintains his stern, crossed arms, you continue, “Shoko could’ve done it! I didn’t even really notice- “

Yaga unfolds his arms, waving you up into a stand, “You don’t have to give credit to save your friends when you’re who found Sukuna’s finger.”

Once again, you try to refuse, but Suguru beats you to the punch, “She was vital in obtaining the cursed object, we couldn’t have retrieved it without her.”

Satoru nods twice to his friend’s point.

“You can join Ieiri,” Yaga’s brows somehow wrinkle even more, a finger pointing in your face, “You’re free because you found the finger. Don’t forget a veil again.”

“Yes, sir!” you chirp, the back of your uniform collar being tugged upward by Shoko. She’s already dragging you out of your teacher’s (now principal’s) office, but you spare the time to turn and wave to your friends, “Good luck, ‘Toru and Sugu’ - I’ll get nice flowers to send your moms!”

Satoru squirms from where he’s kneeling, hand shooting up as soon as you’re out of the room. He can see it perfectly now, a big red welt on the back of his head and a matching one for Suguru, “Actually, she couldn’t have gotten the finger without us, so maybe this punishment isn’t necessary!”

Suguru glares at his friend, “You can’t undo a good deed like that, it’s embarrassing.”

“I could let you off,” Yaga hums, “But you forget, Gojo, this isn’t your first time refusing to put up a veil.”

“It’s not refusing!” he honestly just forgets sometimes! He swears!

Suguru would hit Satoru himself if he weren’t trying so hard to stay still, “You’re making it worse!”

…

“I hope they’ll be okay…” you murmur, hugging Shoko’s arm to your chest as the both of you head down the long steps from Jujutsu Tech, “Yaga didn’t seem too mad, right?”

Shoko watches your step down the stairs for you (your stare now focused on a gaggle of birds singing overhead), “We’ll see if white mums are on sale - take that as our omen.”

And when you both see that banana yellow sign in your favorite old lady’s flower shop advertising bundles of white chrysanthemums for only 1,000 yen a piece - you send a prayer to Satoru and Suguru’s souls.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #shoko x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #shoko ieiri x reader #airhead reader

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

FIGHT — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: y/n (lovie) and jack get into their biggest fight yet

warnings: fighting, mention of bad parents (lovie’s)

my head slumps on the back of the couch as Eleanor’s cries pierce my eardrums.

“El, baby, c’mon.” i groan out.

my recently turned one year old is sprawled out on the apartment floor, throwing a fit over something of which i have no idea.

i tried to pick her up, but she just kept pushing my hands away, screaming ‘mama! no! mama, no! no, mama!’

it’s been two weeks of this, and i have a sneaking suspicion that her constant sour mood has been all because of the particular absence of her favorite person. Jack.

it’s been two weeks of early wake-ups and late nights. two weeks of El having meltdowns if i mess up even one thing, like giving her cheetos in a bowl instead of her snack cup, or suggesting Moana instead of watching Lilo & Stitch for the billionth time, or reading her the wrong book at bed time. it’s been two weeks of sleep regression, no naps, and her throwing her food every chance she gets. two weeks of her screaming if i try and leave the room, but screaming if i try and pick her up as well. two weeks of bags under my eyes, messy buns because my hair is horribly greasy, and surviving purely on coffee.

i’m tired. my feet hurt because every time i sit, El screams at me. my head hurts from her screaming. and now my stomach cramps because i, of course, both started my period, and have not had a moment to eat all day. i’ve broken down in tears nearly every night once i finally get El to sleep, because i don’t know how much more of this i can take.

tears well up in my eyes at this very moment, and it takes everything in me to hold back my own screams. not necessarily directed at my daughter, but just in frustration. i can’t think clearly. it’s nearing midnight and i’ve tried everything to get her to sleep, but she just keeps fighting it.

i know she’s tired, just like i am. she’s been up since five in the morning, which means so have i.

“i give up.” i cry out, burying my face in my hands, weeping into them in frustration and exhaustion. “i get it, El. you want your father. i know. please, i know.”

El’s cries pause and i peek through my fingers to see her watching me with a tilted head, before she bursts back into tears.

i steel my spine, wiping my own tears, and strengthening myself. i rise from the couch, scooping my daughter up, despite her smacks to my chest and pulls on my now-falling-out bun, and shuffle towards her bedroom.

going for the last ditch effort, i grab the hidden pacifier in her top dresser drawer, and pop it into her mouth before turning on the white noise machine in the corner and placing her in her crib.

i gaze down at her, watching as she yawns, tears still slipping from her eyes. her eyelids flutter closed before she pries them back open and stares back at me.

“Eleanor Elizabeth Hughes, you have to sleep.” i scold in a whisper.

retreating from the room, closing the door and listening for her wails; i nearly cry in relief when nothing comes. nothing but silence and the sound of the white noise.

my feet pad across the wooden floors as i walk to the kitchen, keeping an ear out for El’s possible whines. too drained to make myself anything sustainable, i settle for a yogurt cup and a cheese stick. bringing my snacks with me into Jack and i’s bedroom, i settle under the blankets.

i have no energy to put into paying attention to a show or movie, and not nearly enough to read a book; so i sit in silence, staring at the wall as i eat.

placing the now empty yogurt cup on my nightstand, i pick at the cheese stick, lost in thought.

i’m struggling.

i feel like a single parent half the time.

i’m not sure how actual single parents do it. the ones who have to work and take care of their children. because parenting in and of itself is a full time job.

i know it’s not fair of me to think so little of myself, but i can’t help feeling like a horrible mother. she never wants me anymore; only ever yearning for Jack.

and i get it. i yearn for him too when he’s gone.

but can’t she be happy with me?

i miss the sound of the front door shutting; too deep in my own head. too far gone in my own thoughts.

but i do hear the not-so-hushed whispers of my husband and his brother as they venture farther into the apartment.

i hear the ‘goodnight.’ from Luke before his bedroom door shuts. i hear the nursery door opening, the white noise from the room getting louder. and then a few minutes later, i hear the nursery door click shut and the sound of my husbands footsteps getting closer down the hall before our bedroom door opens.

my cheese stick is long gone, and my fingers now settle for playing with each other. my nails picking at the others as i still sit in a catatonic state of exhaustion; staring at the wall in front of me.

Jack lets out a breath of surprise when he notices i’m awake in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp.

“hey, lovie.” he leans down, his fists pressing down on the mattress top, and lays a swift kiss on my cheek before rising back up to his full height.

i glance over as he throws Eleanor’s pacifier onto his nightstand.

“i thought we agreed no more pacifiers when she turned one? she hasn’t had one in the past month.” he huffs, stripping his shirt off and throwing it towards the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, narrowly missing by an inch. he eyes the shirt for a millisecond before shrugging and repeating the process with his pants, this time making it in the hamper.

“yeah, well, you weren’t here to attend to her screams and i was.” i retort.

“so you resorted to the paci?” he questions, pulling a pair of flannel pajama pants out of his dresser drawer.

“stop mom-shaming me.” i snap, scooting down and flopping onto my side, my back facing Jack.

“lovie.” he sighs. the bed dips as he sits behind me. “that’s not what i was doing.”

“yes. you were.” i accuse. “you’re saying i’m a bad mom for giving my daughter what she needed in order to fall asleep.”

i turn in the bed to look up at him and he parts his lips to speak, but i keep going.

“but you weren’t here, Jack. you didn’t hear her cries, or have to try every trick in the book to calm her down. you weren’t awake with her for nineteen hours with no nap only to still have her fight bed time. so, yes, i resorted to the pacifier. and ya know what? it worked.”

“i get that you’re in a bad mood, but why are you taking it out on me? i wasn’t even here for you to get angry at me.” he remarks.

“i’m not.” i deny, closing my eyes and hoping he’ll take it as a sign to just let me sleep.

“you are.” he grunts. “and it makes me feel like i’m the bad guy for doing my job.”

“well, i wouldn't have to do this all alone if it weren't for your fucking job.” i know as soon as i say it that my words were uncalled for. but, before i can take them back, Jack stands from the bed, making my eyes fly open to look at him.

“do i not help when i’m home? i’m so sorry that me providing for our family is so hard for you.” he sneers. his sarcasm is not appreciated, and i sit up in the bed in anger. “i’m so sorry that you have to be a mother, while i’m gone making money so that you don’t have to work.”

i shuffle onto my knees on the bed, glaring daggers at my husband.

“when have i ever complained about being a mother? and when have i ever said that i don’t want to work? i never asked to stay at home! but it’s what i do, because not both of us can work without putting El in daycare. which you said you didn’t want to do.”

my finger juts at my chest before poking his. my words harsh in delivery, but quiet in attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby down the hall.

“i never once complained about being a mother. i love her.” i continue.

“are you implying that i don’t love her?” Jack fumes.

“i never said that!” i cry. “you’re putting words into my mouth!”

“i’m just trying to provide for us!” our attempted quiet is long forgotten now, and i can only hope that the white noise in El’s room is enough to mask our argument.

“you think i don’t know that?” i exclaim, he opens his mouth but i don’t let him get a word in. “i’m just saying that you don’t understand how exhausting it is being a single parent half the fucking hockey season! you leave and play games and go out to fucking bars to celebrate wins and i stay here and take care of our daughter, who for the past two weeks, only wanted you!”

Jack throws his hands up in the air, huffing in anger.

“well, i can’t help that! i get that it’s hard, but you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful. it’s part of my job to leave, y/n!”

of everything he’s said, it’s those words that cut me the deepest. and what hurts the most, as small as it may seem, is that within all of our fights, big or small, throughout our entire six years together, never once has he called me by my name while we fought.

it’s always ‘lovie’.

but suddenly, i’m ‘y/n’.

i lower myself onto my butt on the mattress. tears are streaming down my cheeks and i try to wipe them away before Jack can see them.

“now you’re gonna cry?” he lowers himself onto the bed and i push myself off of it in order to gain distance, now standing a couple feet away.

“i quit.” my voice is quiet and surrendered, my words sheltered. i watch as his face drops, lips parting in shock.

“what?” he mumbles, his eyes softening.

i shake my head, letting my tears flow freely now as i round the bed and i head toward the cracked open door.

“where are you going?” he questions, his tone still holding a dash of anger.

“to sleep in Luke’s room.” i reply. he calls after me but his words fall on deaf ears.

i need space.

i don’t bother knocking on Luke’s door, opening it to find him just now sitting down in bed, his hair wet and leftover steam drifting from his en-suite bathroom.

his head snaps over to the door as i close it, and at the sight of my tears, he pats the bed beside him.

a sob racks my chest as i crawl into bed with the boy i look at as a brother. he pulls me into his side, no words spoken between us as he rubs a hand over my hair, letting me cry into his chest and soak his plain white t-shirt.

a muffled cry escapes my lips and he squeezes me tighter, pressing a kiss to my scalp. nothing needs to be said, no words needed to be shared, just quiet shushes and his hand rubbing up and down my back, the other still holding my head tight to his chest in grounding.

i’m not sure how long passes before i cry myself to sleep, Jack’s words echoing on a loop inside my head.

‘you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful.’

***

i’m unsure what time it is when i awake, but Luke is gone from the bed, and the sun peeks through the bedroom window.

i know Luke and Jack have the day off, so if Luke is already up, then i must have slept in later than i usually do.

despite the apparent long sleep, i don’t feel as well rested as i should. my eyes flutter shut for a few moments, but at the sound of the familiar squeal of excitement from my daughter, drifting in through the crack in the door, my eyes fly back open.

i kick my legs free from the tangle of blankets and throw them over the side of the bed, peeling my tired body up off the mattress. i rub my eyes as i walk over to Luke’s bathroom, ignoring the mess amongst the counter and looking in the mirror.

my eyes are still red and puffy from crying, and i turn on the faucet, cupping my hands under the cold running water and splashing it on my face before drying it with the hand towel that’s thrown haphazardly on the counter.

exiting the bathroom and bedroom, i’m immediately met with the sight of El’s smiling face bounding down the hall. her chubby little legs wobble as she runs.

“mama! dada!” she squeals, motioning behind her. a grin overtakes my lips at her excitement.

“yeah? is dada home?” i ask with a laugh as she runs smack into my legs, reaching up with grabby hands.

my heart melts in my chest. for the first time in two weeks, she wants me.

“mama! dada!” she repeats as i hoist her up, lifting her above my head and rejoicing in her giggles.

my eyes are all too soon drawn to my husband at the end of the hall. he stands leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a faint smile on his lips while my own falls at the sight of him.

our fight replays in my mind; flashes of his red face and his defensive stance. echoes of his harsh tone and his cruel words.

Jack approaches us, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips, but i shift my face, his lips landing on my cheek instead. pulling back, his face falls, hurt shining in his eyes. it hurts me to see him upset, but i can’t bring myself to feel too bad, as i, too, am hurting.

i maneuver around him, padding down the hallway with El in my arms, making my way to the open layout of the living room and kitchen.

Luke is sat on the couch, eyes on his phone while Lilo & Stitch plays on the tv, and i flop down beside him. El crawls into his lap, pushing his phone out of the way and pushing her smiling face into his line of sight. i watch his eyes light up, sliding his phone into his pocket and tickling her sides.

a laugh escapes my lips as he lifts El upside down in front of his face, making her giggle contagiously. but once again, my lips fall back straight as Jack enters the room again.

the day continues like this, living amicably with Jack, but not happily. as the day goes on, the more i reflect on our fight the night prior, and the worse i feel. i was in the wrong. i knew that last night and i know it now.

i know leaving El is hard for him, just as taking care of her without him is hard for me. but my guilt doesn’t erase his words.

i know he didn’t mean it, just as he knows that i didn’t mean mine, but it still hurts. he cut deep. he accused me of being ungrateful, the very same thing he knows my parents called me when i told them i was moving out.

‘you’re so ungrateful. we offered you to keep living with us even after your graduation, and you’d rather move out with your unstable little boyfriend than live with the people who raised you. well, don’t come crawling back to us, we don’t take ungrateful children.’

a lump grows in my throat as i compare the fights. it’s nine at night and Jack is in El’s room, putting her to sleep, Luke long having retired to his own bedroom, leaving me alone on the couch. my knees are pulled up to my chest, my arms hugging them tight, as tears stream down my cheeks.

a small part of me tells me i should apologize. i know if i do, he will too. he already seems to want to move past it.

but the larger part of me says to wait. to let him apologize to me. to make him acknowledge that we fought. instead of brushing past it like it never happened.

Jack strides into the living room, child free, and it’s the first time we’ve really been alone together all day.

i avoid his gaze, rather wiping my tears and averting my eyes to the television, which still plays the credits of The Little Mermaid from our before bedtime movie.

he sighs, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. his hand reaches out to graze my leg and i flinch at the soft touch. the larger part of me wins and i rise from the couch, stalking off to our bedroom and away from him.

i quickly change into my pajamas, hoping to be out of the bedroom before he comes in, but i’m not so lucky.

he enters the room as i’m pulling my t-shirt over my head. my t-shirt. not his. he notices this change quickly and shakes his head.

he stands silently, his back leaning against the now closed door as i pull on sweatpants, watching my every move.

i move to the en-suite bathroom when i’m done. making quick work of washing my face and brushing my teeth. when i finally finish with my nightly routine, i head back out to the still blocked bedroom door.

Jack eyes me up and down, and a quick wetting of his lips tells me he’s horny, but i laugh inside at the thought.

does me angry and upset, turn him on? does he really think he has any chance of getting lucky tonight when he hasn’t even apologized?

“can you move?” i huff, crossing my arms.

“where are you going now?” he questions, shaking his head.

“Luke’s room. again.”

“you know we have a bed, right? the one you were in last night before you left me alone in here.” his words twist my heart, but i stand my ground.

“oh, you mean the same bed i was sitting in when you implied that i’m ungrateful and selfish?” i mock, tilting my head.

“lovie.” his tone is defensive enough to let me know that he doesn’t plan on apologizing tonight, so rather than waiting and hoping for Jack to move, i push him aside lightly with my shoulder and slip through the door.

i knock lightly on Luke’s door and it doesn’t take long for him to open it, letting me slip through into the room.

“you guys are still fighting?” Luke asks, shutting the door and walking over to sit on his bed.

“i promise, this is the last time i’ll sleep in your room. if we’re still fighting tomorrow night, i’ll sleep on the couch.” i assure him, crawling up the bed and laying on my side, facing him.

“i don’t have a problem with you sleeping in here, lovie.” he sighs, laying down on his side so that we lay face to face. “i’ve just never seen you guys fight like this, ya know? you guys are usually so in love, it just scares me to see you fight. i want the best for both of you.”

my eyes soften and i raise my hand, running it softly through Luke’s unruly curls.

“Lukey, i’m still madly in love with your brother. one fight isn’t gonna change that.” i tell him. “he said some things that hurt me. i said things that i’m sure hurt him too. but we’ll get through this. we love each other.”

i speak with assurance, but at this point, i’m not sure if i’m reassuring Luke, or myself.

“you should go to sleep, bubs. you have practice in the morning.” i press a kiss to Luke’s forehead before he turns his bedside lamp off and flops down on his side, his back now facing me.

i follow suit, my back facing Luke as i close my eyes and let myself drift to sleep.

***

i’m woken up by little hands smacking my cheeks, immediately followed by the sound of my husbands whispers.

“oh no, El, we don’t smack mommy. we’re gentle.” he tells her softly, and soon after, i feel her open mouth press against my cheek; her version of a kiss.

my eyes flutter open and i’m met by the smiling face of my daughter. she’s held hovering above me by Jack, who seems worried for my reaction.

“hi, baby!” i coo, a smile stretching over my lips as i take her from him. “good morning, beautiful!”

“mama!” she cheers, followed by a steady stream of babbling.

“she woke up a couple hours ago. she was looking for you.” Jack tells me. “i just changed her diaper, and she already ate breakfast, but i noticed she’s been chewing on everything this morning, so i threw a couple of her teething toys in the freezer and she’ll probably want a popsicle soon to sooth her gums.”

i look up at him and nod, acknowledging that i heard him, before i sit up and lay El down on the bed, tickling her tummy and listening to her joyous giggles fill the room.

“Luke and i are off to practice, we’re running late.” he runs his hand over El’s hair, leaning down and kissing her forehead before turning to look at me again. “Luke said he wants to take El to the park after we get back. he said for me to ask you if you can have her dressed and her diaper bag ready for when he and i get back.”

“yeah, i can do that.” i reply and he nods, pushing off the bed and laying a kiss on my own forehead before he leaves the room.

i heave out a sigh, looking down at El, who’s already looking up at me.

“you wanna go take a shower with mommy?” i baby talk, pasting a smile back on my face. she smiles right back, grabbing at my shirt. “yeah, you do. you love showers, don’t you? my little water baby.”

El is all dressed and ready to go when Jack and Luke arrive home, while i stick the last snack into her diaper bag.

“hey, lovie.” Luke chimes, throwing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing my head into his chest. “she ready?”

“mhm! she should be good to go.” i confirm as i push out of his hold, stuffing the bag into his arms instead. “you have the stroller, right?”

“yeah, i’m taking Jack’s car and it’s already in the trunk.” he confirms, slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder and scooping his niece up from where she was already staring up at him by his legs.

“alright, say bye-bye to mommy and daddy!” Luke sings out, waving to us. El copies him, waving her entire arm about in order to wave goodbye, and with that, they’re out the door; leaving Jack and i in silence.

i busy myself by picking up the toys strewn about the living room floor, while Jack unloads the dishwasher. but tension lingers in the air.

maybe i should just apologize.

i hate this feeling.

i hate not being cuddled up with him right now.

we usually spend any El free hours curled up in our bed. napping, watching a movie, talking, or just taking part in general bedroom activities.

but instead, we’re across the room from each other, doing daily household chores and trying hard to avoid the screaming silence between us.

i drop a barbie into the toy box and stand up straight, looking towards my husband, who’s already staring at me with gentle eyes.

“i’m sorry.” i sigh, squeezing my eyes shut, holding my hands to my face. “i hate fighting.”

his hurried footsteps click against the wooden floors, stopping when he gets in front of me. his hands come up to mine, delicately pulling them away from my face before his arms encircle my waist.

“i hate it too.” he whispers, and i know his words hold a double meaning. he hates fighting and he hates leaving.

“i shouldn’t have said the things that i did. i shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.” i let my head bob forward, my forehead laying against his chest. “i was tired, and i was angry at the situation, but not at you. never at you. you’re providing for our family, and i’m so glad that you get to do that by doing something you love.”

he kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering on my scalp.

“i’m sorry too.” he mumbles against me.

“i’m sorry for making it seem like i was mom-shaming you, i should’ve chosen my words more carefully. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i’m sorry for accusing you of saying i don’t love her, i know that’s not what you were saying. and most of all, i’m sorry for implying that you were ungrateful. you’re not. i know you’re not. i should’ve never implied that you were.

“you’re an amazing mom, lovie. the best i could’ve ever hoped for El. i should’ve been more understanding about how hard it is for you to take care of her alone while i’m gone.”

i peer up at him, my chin still resting on his chest, and give him a pointed look.

“and i’m sorry for not calling you ‘lovie’.” he huffs out through a laugh. the corners of my mouth quirk up and i pull his head down to push our lips together.

my whole body melts even further into his, finally at peace for the first time in over two weeks.

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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residentrookie · 1 year ago

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jegulus dads ‘i frew up 🧍’ microfic— 1313 words; sorry guys i was brain rotting too hard about this one (cw: mentions of throwing up)

in all his 27 years, regulus has never been a deep sleeper. so when the door to the bedroom creaks open at 3 in the morning, his eyes open with it. the room is still pitch black, and he wonders groggily if boots (their cat) pawed it open when a tiny, weak voice whimpers, “daddy?”

regulus is launching up in bed and turning towards the voice of his five year old son before thinking twice.

“what, baby? what is it?”

at his sudden movement, james shoots up in bed next to him. “—whatisit. haz?” he mumbles, flicking on a lamp and dousing the room in light.

there stands harry in his spiderman jams, hair an absolute bird’s nest and tears streaming from his big green eyes and down his sweet cheeks. regulus’ eyes water instinctively just looking at him. before having kids, regulus never knew what it was to empathize so automatically with someone else— but he felt harry’s emotions right along with him, the joy, the sorrow, and the pain too.

“i—“ harry starts, then sucks in a big stuttering breath, clearly trying to be a brave boy and not cry, “i-i threw u-up.”

at the admission he wails, like he’s just confessed to the most abhorrent sin and will now have to face the wrath of his two loving fathers, who are so light on punishments they sometimes worry harry will end up being the most spoiled brat alive. james and regulus share a quick look, what regulus would consider the “dad” look, before throwing back the covers and rising quickly.

surprisingly, they’ve planned for this. years ago. when they first started dating. james had asked regulus about this very scenario, and after minutes of regulus whining about never wanting children in the first place—so why does it even matter, james— he’d made his position clear.

“i don’t do vomit.” regulus told him firmly. “absolutely not.”

james had laughed. “fine by me. if you only knew how much of my friends vomit i’ve had to clean up over the years. i don’t even blink at it anymore.”

thus the responsibilities of this hypothetical situation were assigned. james was on vomit duty. regulus was on comfort duty.

“not sure i’ll be any good at that either,” regulus had said grudgingly, but james had just smiled knowingly, able to see a future that regulus couldn’t yet imagine.

james makes it to harry first and scoops him up promptly, letting him bury his face in his neck and sob. regulus comes up behind them and snuggles up to harry, kissing his small head and whispering reassurances.

“shhhh don’t cry, it’s okay, haz. does your tummy hurt?” james asks calmly, rocking them all back and forth soothingly.

regulus pulls back and watches harry nod. his cheek is rosy and hot when regulus puts his hand to it.

“come on, baby, let’s go take care of it okay?” regulus tells him, and james deposits their still-sniffling son into his husbands open arms.

“you know what time it is?” james asks, wiggling his brows. harry just sniffs and shakes his head. “time to be superdad,” james tells him, pointing at his faded superman t-shirt. then he gives an animated salute, puts one fist on his hip and the other high in the sky before jetting out of the room with some impressive ‘flying sounds’ that manage to make harry smile a little before he remembers that he’s actually very upset right now. regulus shakes his head at his wonderfully ridiculous spouse and starts towards the stairs, feeling harry’s hot tears gather in the crook of his neck.

after giving harry some medicine, they settle on the couch downstairs, harry in regulus lap and clinging to him. regulus rocks them for a few minutes, letting harry’s breaths slow as he calms down.

“papa?” harry sniffles suddenly, his voice so small.

“yes, sweetheart?” regulus asks, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“we need to have a funeral. like how we did for bobbi.”

regulus blinks. bobbi, harry’s goldfish, had died three days after james brought him home, leaving the two of them to explain the complicated matter of death to their three and a half year old. so harry had a vague idea of the concept and of funerals, though his only exposure has been the meager ceremony they’d patched together and held in their garden. sirius had given a speech and peter had cried.

“what? why?” regulus demands, scanning his son’s face. his bottom lip pokes out as his eyes fill with tears yet again.

“b-because i think i killed hippo,” he wails. “i-i threw up all over him— a-and ron said that throw up is like— like how supervillains spit out the acid and k-kill the good guys—“

regulus closes his eyes briefly, exhaling in relief. he makes a mental note to tell james to cool it on the superhero movies for a while— clearly it’s getting into harry’s head.

“no baby, hippo is fine. he just needs to go for a swim in the wash, and then he’ll come out as good as new.”

harry peels his head back from regulus’ chest, blinking up at home hopefully. “really?”

“really. i bet daddy has already put him in. shall we go check on him just to be sure?”

“yes, please,” harry says, politely. oddly, it makes regulus think of his mother, of how she had demanded her boys to be polite above all else, even in the face of abuse and neglect. james and regulus had done absolutely everything differently, and harry still turned out to be the sweetest boy on the planet. walburga can fucking suck it.

pushing aside the thoughts of his mother, regulus rises with harry still perched on his hip. they walk back upstairs, peeking their heads into the laundry room to find james, metaphorical sleeves rolled up as he hums to himself, rummaging through their linens. regulus truly married the only person in the world who can sing while cleaning up vomit at 3 in the morning.

james turns and smiles at them in the doorway. “my boys!” he says cheerfully, crossing the room to give harry a smooch on the head.

“he’s worried about hippo, darling,” regulus explains. “can you show him how he’s just gone for a dip in the wash?”

“who, hippo?” james asks. “oh he’s great. you know what he told me haz?” he leans forward as if confiding a secret, “he told me he’s been wanting a bubble bath for sooo long and he’s sooo happy he finally got the chance. he even said to tell you thank you!”

harry giggles. “no he didn’t. he doesn’t talk.”

james gasps. “well he certainly talks to me, harry. we’re the best of friends.”

“i thought papa was your best friend,” harry says and james’ face melts into the gentlest smile.

“that’s true, too. it’s a tie between hippo and papa.”

regulus rolls his eyes as harry laughs. they go over and stand in front of the washer. the top is clear, so harry can see all his stuffies (including hippo) swirl around in the sudsy water. after several moments of watching them spin, james nudges regulus, inclining his head towards harry.

regulus looks down to see their baby’s eyes closed, head heavy, cheek squished against his chest.

“his bed has fresh sheets,” james whispers but regulus isn’t quite ready to let him go. he looks up at james with a pleading face.

james, try as he might, has never excelled at being the hardass parent. so when regulus takes their son back into their bedroom, depositing him under the covers between the two of them, james just smiles and shakes his head. they climb into bed and turn towards harry, two parenthesis enclosing the small shape of their son, cradling him and keeping him safe.

regulus sleeps long and deep, one hand laced with his husband’s, the other resting on his son’s dark head.

#i scribbled this like a madman in my notes app so apologies for the lowercase #i just love everything about them #they would be SUCH GOOD PARENTS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND #jegulus dads #jegulus #jegulus microfic #james potter #regulus black #harry potter #oneshot

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usedtobecooler · 2 years ago

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lil bully!eddie blurby blurb based off of this text post <3

“such a fuckin’ needy little pussy for me, huh?” eddie’s eyes are wide and filled with something akin to mischief as he slides the fat head of his cock along your folds with one hand, letting it run along the bump of your clit until you’re bucking your hips, which he stops in return with a tight hand wound in the waistband of your bunched up skirt, “stop being a brat. you’ll take what i give you.”

you whimper in return, tears pricking at your eyes — he’s got you cornered on this stupid bench in the middle of nowhere in this summer heat. legs spread wide and small tank top pulled down your belly to expose your tits and wound tight nipples to the slight breeze. you watch where your bodies meet, where his thick cock snags at your dripping cunt, the glimmer of your wetness dripping down his shaft, “i’ve been good, please, eddie. fuck me?”

eddie barks out a laugh, continuing his merciless slap of his cock up and down your core, the swirl of his head around your clit making you dizzy with want, “but look how messy she is for me, babe. dripping for my fat cock,” he muses, nuzzling his face into your neck as the head catches on your hole — he shoves it in briefly, enough to punch the air out of you, before he’s sliding it back out to continue running up and down your throbbing clit, “need you to cum, babe. make a mess and maybe then i’ll fuck you. if i think you deserve it, that is.”

you wail, throwing an arm over his shoulders and digging your cute little manicured nails into his skin through the threadbare shirt he wears. eddie nuzzles in impossibly closer, curls sticking to your damp chest as his plump lips graze over your neck, kissing and biting and sucking along the way. you’re gasping, body flushing hotter as he slides his cock head over and over your clit until your thighs begin to shake from the overstimulation.

“c’mon, sweetheart, cum all over my cock,” eddie’s voice is barely above a whisper, almost being taken away in the summer breeze, but it makes your tummy flip and clench. he slides his cock head away from your clit to gather more of your juices that are spilling uncontrollably from your entrance, wetting the mushroom tip further. you feel him grin into your neck as he drags it back up to your clit, swirling it faster until he feels your cunt clench around him.

“eddie,” you cry, coil in your tummy winding tighter as you fist at his curls, tugging at them until he grunts, cock head blurting out a little dribble of precum to add to the mess you’re already making. it doesn’t take much — you cum with a loud cry, pussy and thighs clenching as you spill all down eddie’s cock, “fuck, fuck—!”

“that’s it, good fuckin’ girl,” eddie moves from his place in your neck to watch between both of your bodies, as your pussy soaks his cock. he takes advantage, nudges the tip into your achy hole just barely before he’s pulling back out, sliding back up to your raw clit.

“that’s not fair!” you protest, grappling for purchase on his shirt as your tummy spasms, a deep heat pooling in your belly. eddie removes his hand that’s been clenched tight in your skirt to grip at your chin, fingers digging into your soft, plump cheeks.

“it is fair, babe.” he grits his teeth, cock snagging on your hole once more before coming up again. he slaps the head on your clit — over, and over, and over until tears spill from the corners of your eyes in a silent beg. and he laughs at you again, venomous, “look at you. aching for my big dick. we’re in public, sweetheart, anybody could see you. a mess with your pussy and tits out, spread for me on this dirty bench. like a good little whore.”

you try to shake your head, but eddie’s grip on your cheeks is too tight. he laughs at that, too. that you even had the nerve to try and protest and call him wrong when he’s got you gushing all over yourself. you know as well as he does that he’s in control here, and you’re merely a little fuck toy who has to wait patiently for his cock.

“tell me who this cunt belongs to?” it comes out more as a statement than a question, as eddie loosens his grip on your chin in favour of running a thumb along your tight nipple, runs the head of his cock up and down your folds again, sliding along your clit and making your hips buck.

“y-you,” you hiccup, unable to rip your eyes away from him. the desperation was getting too much, you ached to have eddie fill you, have him fuck you until you were sore and bruised. made to walk back to town with a pussy full of his come.

“that’s what i thought,” he grins, slapping his cock head on your clit one last time before he’s breaching your spasming hole and sliding in, right hand finally freed so that he can use both to pin you into place as he fucks into you.

“oh, fuck—!” you cry as he bottoms out, your abused pussy clenching around his thickness, head pressed snug up against your cervix. you feel so full that you can’t help it, the tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes finally coming, rolling down your cheeks and staining them, “g-god, your cock, ‘m s’full,”

eddie doesn’t give you much time to adjust to the sheer size of him, immediately setting a brutal pace that has the bench creaking underneath you, has your hand grappling on the edge of it for support. your cunt squelches as he pounds in and out of you, echoes in the quiet of the woods.

“perfect. little. pussy,” eddie grunts with each thrust, one hand swiping over your belly and pressing down where the curve of his cock nestles, “feel me here, babe? deep, huh? deep in your guts?”

you whimper, crying out as he pushes down on your tummy, clenching around him and eliciting a groan in return. his eyes slip shut, head dipping down, bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat. he’s so fucking pretty when he’s drunk on your pussy, fat cock sheathed in your tight walls.

you hook a leg over the base of his back, sneaker digging into his flushed skin to hold him there, your pussy clenching around him once again, “want you to cum in me, pretty please? wanna feel you dripping out of my pussy when i finger myself later.”

eddie moans at that, hips starting to stutter, cock pulsing inside your fluttering cunt, “love when you beg for me all, shit, all sweet for me, babe,” he grunts, shoving himself in to the hilt, watching with wide, doe eyes as his cock sinks in and out of you, making a mess and dripping down his balls. he’s losing his composure.

“eddie,” you choke out a moan of his name, his cock assaulting your spongey spot relentlessly now, leaving you gasping and sputtering for breath. you feel funny, a heat spreading through your lower belly like you need to pee, “hurry, please, need to — need to piss or somethin’.”

eddie’s head snaps up at that, eyes locking with yours, “yeah?” he asks, but there’s no worry or curiosity, a filthy grin spreading over his face as he pushes a hand down just above your bladder, making you squirm under his touch, “you’re gonna feel so good, babe, promise. just let go.”

you trust him. you trust him more than you should, probably. and if he tells you to do something, you’ll do it. he pushes down a little harder, fucking into you at the same pace, enough to have you clawing at the bench tightly, knuckles whitening as you relax, letting your release wash over you.

“oh, fuck yeah, sweetheart,” eddie’s slack jawed as you cry, pussy sputtering out your hot release all over his cock, making him slip out momentarily. he watches as your cunt drips all over the side of the bench, down onto the green grass below, before he sinks back in, a groan escaping him, “fuck, so fucking wet, dirty girl,”

you watch him with hooded eyes, tears rolling down your face from overstimulation, unable to breathe or think as you try to take in what just happened, “did i — did i —“

“you squirted, fuck,” eddie finishes your sentence for you, burying his face back into your neck as he drives in deeper and deeper, the noises of his cock sinking into you somehow louder and filthier now, consuming your senses, “sopping wet, babe. m’gonna cum,”

you find yourself breathing out a sigh of relief, half-heartedly squeezing down on his cock. he grunts into your neck, baring his teeth and biting down as he comes deep in your pussy, painting your walls white with his load. you squeal as he bites and sucks at you, can’t find it in you to be mad as your whole body vibrates with overstimulation and pleasure.

you walk back to town leaking his come, just like you hoped. he calls you late that night, makes you put the receiver to your pussy so he can hear the loud squelching of your come-filled hole stuffed with your fingers.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #mine #my fanfic #blurb #smut #x reader #bully!eddie

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